


Embers and Frost

by Skyleaf19



Series: Summer and Winter [2]
Category: One Piece, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Gen, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pitch Black is the Nightmare King for a reason, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Self-Harm, Torture, Trauma, Using Pitch to more of his full potential than what you can do in a Rated PG movie, disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-25 22:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 414,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyleaf19/pseuds/Skyleaf19
Summary: After becoming the new Spirit of Summer, Ace struggles with the knowledge that one day he will be forced to leave everyone he loves behind. Jack questions how far he would go for those he cares about. And Luffy, unaware of Ace’s rebirth, is plagued by visions of his brother’s death and other horrors. But those nightmares may be more than just dreams…





	1. Out of the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Mix of Book and Movie canon/history for Rise of the Guardians. This story takes place sometime after the two-year time skip in One Piece. I’d say almost three years after Ace’s “death”. I’m going to call this story an Alternate Universe fic because it is not going to follow the One Piece post-timeskip storyline, and I’m not going to attempt to fit it in anywhere in the timeline. I will say that it is after Luffy finds out a certain blond-haired person is alive though. ;) Other than that, don’t try to fit it in anywhere in the OP timeline. You’ll just get a headache.

Ace would never stop thinking that the ocean looked beautiful in the sunlight. The way the light reflected off the blue waters, sometimes dancing through the liquid like tiny, harmless bolts of lightning, always brought a smile to the fire-user’s face. The Spirit of Summer soared slowly over the ocean, letting his hand drift through the water and beaming when he felt no weakness from the action.

Even after two— almost three— years, Ace still was not used to being able to touch salt water and even _swim_ in it again, but being able to do so without negative side effects was just one of the many benefits of being a Spirit. He never knew how much he missed the cold, silky feeling of the water until he gained the ability to enjoy it once more.

With a whoop, Ace let the fire keeping him aloft putter out, diving beneath the waves before shooting back up to the surface, fire collecting at his hands and feet and propelling him upward. Taking a breath, the Summer Spirit dove again, spotting a Sea King far beneath the surface. It stared at him in confusion but did not attack, more bewildered by the strange not-human than wanting to eat it.

Ace broke the surface once more, laying on it and letting the water float him where it would. A chuckle interrupted the fire-user’s playtime and he turned to look at his companion with sparkling fire-colored eyes.

“Going to join me, Jack? Or is it too wet for you?”

Jack Frost, the Spirit of Winter, stood stiffly on a small island of ice he had created, staff gripped tightly in one hand. The Guardian did not like swimming, and the fact that most water froze when he was near it did not help to increase his tolerance for the liquid. Neither did the small detail that he had drowned in a lake before becoming a Spirit.

All things considered, Jack was quite calm for being where he was, in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight. Despite his tense posture, his smile was relaxed as he rolled blue eyes at the ex-pirate.

“Not everyone likes water as much as you. I’m beginning to think you should have been an Ocean Spirit instead of a Summer Spirit.” Jack teased.

“I just gained a recent appreciation for actually being able to _be_ in the sea. Do Ocean Spirits exist in your world?” Ace asked, always eager to know more about the Guardian’s home.

Jack nodded, stretching his arms over his head casually. “Yeah. There’s a couple. There used to be more than fifty— all that were almost as powerful as the Seasons!— but they got into trouble a few hundred years before I became a Spirit.” At Ace’s questioning look he continued. “They became arrogant and kept purposely attacking and killing humans. Mother Nature and the Seasons take care of most oversea storms and hurricanes now, while the remaining Ocean Spirits deal with the sea.”

“Ah.” The young Summer Spirit winced, deciding he did not need to know more.

Ace relaxed on the surface of the water, gazing up at the sun. He and Jack had been doing this a lot lately, just exploring the Grand Line and New World. Not that they had anything better to do anyway. It was odd, not having to rush somewhere or do something.

As a Spirit trapped in a world that he was not meant to interfere with, Ace had very few things he was meant to do and almost no one to tell him to do it. Technically, the only person he had to answer to was Jack, and that was only when the Spirit fretted like a mother hen whenever Ace tried to manipulate nature beyond his capabilities and ended up knocking himself out. Or when the fire-user partook in other reckless activities.

Any comments from the Summer Spirit about hypocrisy and said mother henning were ignored by the Guardian. Even so, overprotective tendencies were a step up from how the Winter Spirit had treated Ace after he had first been reborn. It had taken three months and a literal explosion— courtesy of an irritated Ace— for Jack to stop looking at him like he was going to collapse any second.

But still… being so free of responsibility and mortal worries was strange.

Even on Whitebeard’s ship Ace had missions to complete, duties to fulfill, and orders to follow. There were expectations to meet and fears to cover up. Even though Oyaji had known that he was Roger’s son, most of the crew had not, and the fear of rejection had always lingered beneath Ace’s skin.

Now Ace was no longer a Whitebeard Pirate. Now he was no longer a mortal with limited time. Now he was no longer defined by his father’s blood, legacy, and name.

He was Hiken D. Ace, Spirit of Summer. Not Portgas, not Gol or Gold. His father’s identity no longer bound him to his unwanted heritage. It was wonderful to not have the burden of the Pirate King’s name on his shoulders any longer.

He was finally, truly free.

Naturally, Ace’s sense of inner peace could not last forever. Guilt, slow and icy, trickled into his mind and he bit his lip, his thoughts flashing back to the darkest— and final— moments of his life.

_“Thank you… for loving me!”_

_Pain was fading away, blackness reaching for him with its kind embrace, and Ace could feel himself slipping from his brother’s shoulder. Even as all of his senses faded away, Ace could still hear the teen’s frantic sobs, gasping breaths quickly becoming howls of grief. Luffy’s screams were the last thing he heard before everything simply ceased, and his mortal life slipped away…_

Immortals did not need to sleep much, but whenever it became necessary for Ace to get some shuteye his nightmares were filled with the sights and sounds of the war at Marineford. Sometimes he died and was never reborn, trapped in an endless darkness for all eternity. Other times he did not reach Luffy in time and could only watch as Akainu punched his little brother through the chest, burning him from the inside. And then there were the dreams where his allies and loved ones abandoned him to his fate, unwilling to save the son of a monster like him…

So much for being free of his father’s name and his mortal life.

Even with his resolve to live his new life to the fullest and without regrets, Ace could not truly abandon or forget who he once was.

The fire-user would never wish that the Man in the Moon had taken his memories like he had taken Jack’s— of course he didn’t— but having previous responsibilities and knowing people— _mortals_ — he cared about were out there was difficult.

Ace was trying— he really was— but he could not stop himself from feeling selfish and awful any time he let himself think about those he left behind. The Summer Spirit had not heard much about his brother or the Whitebeard Pirates in the past two— three?— years.

As an invisible Spirit, it was a little difficult to keep up with the not-so major events in the world— and the ones that the World Government and Marines covered up, so days, weeks, and events passed by without the young Immortal noticing. Although, if Ace were honest with himself, he was afraid of what he would read if he picked up one of the newspapers he always saw whenever he and Jack drifted into a town.

Long story short, Ace was not watching over his little brother. Nor was he keeping track of or trying to reconnect with him. He was alive— technically— and yet he was not even attempting to seek out Luffy. What kind of older brother did that?

“You have your ‘worrying about Luffy’ face on again.” Jack mentioned.

Ace glanced sidelong at the other Spirit, pulling his orange cowboy hat down over his eyes. “I have a face for that?”

“Yep.” Jack informed him, popping the ‘p’. “Spill. What’s bothering you?”

“Maybe I should go see Luffy.” Ace forced the words out, fidgeting with agitation. “I mean, it’s been almost three years. He must be better now, right? And adventuring again? I know he took a break after my— after Marineford, but I think I saw his picture in the paper a few months ago.” The fire-user had been too cowardly to go and see exactly what Luffy had done, but a glance at his brother’s grinning face— from a distance— had told him he was not dead.

“Ace—” Jack began.

“I’m sure he doesn’t need me anymore though.” Ace continued, not hearing the Winter Spirit. “But it would be nice to see him. Just see him. I don’t have to try to interact with him.”

“Ace, I think—”

“ _Should_ I try to interact with him? He seems to have moved on but what if he hasn’t? What if he blames himself for my de— Marineford? I should try to reassure him, right? I’m the big brother, it was my job to protect him and I would never regret dying to save him.”

“Ace, maybe you should—”

“But what if I go and he can’t see me? What if he _can_? What if I’ve been avoiding him for nothing? What if he hates me? What if—?”

Jack grasped Ace’s shoulders, spinning him around in midair to face him.

“Calm down.” The Guardian said solemnly. “You’re starting to make a thunderstorm.”

Ace glanced up and saw that the sunny sky had turned dark. Menacing grey clouds covered the heavens, and the waves below were no longer calm. Instead they thrashed about angrily, stirred up by the differences in pressure in the air. As the first lightning bolt ripped through the air, letting out a bone-shaking **boom** , the Summer Spirit bit his lip guiltily, praying no ships would get caught in the storm.

When he first became the Spirit of Summer, Ace thought he would have no problems controlling his powers. The fire-user had mistakenly believed that his only powers were control over fire, like what he had when he was human. It turned out he could do so much more.

Clouds would usually dissipate when he entered an area, the temperature would climb ten or even twenty degrees, and if the clouds did _not_ go away he may unintentionally cause thunderstorms. He himself could not shoot lightning from his hands or anything like that but it turned out that the Spirit of Summer had as much of a chance of making rainstorms as Spring did.

_I always thought Summer was just heat and fire_ , Ace mused. _I guess I have more to learn about my powers and what I’m supposed to do than I thought._

Fire and slight temperature manipulation— specifically known as making it hot in the immediate area around him in his case— were just like his old Mera Mera no Mi powers, so his decent control over them had transferred into his new life. As a result, when Ace got upset, he did not burst into flame like one might expect. Instead he caused droughts and thunderstorms. Or would this be a tropical storm?

“That’s not going to become a hurricane or something, right?” Ace asked worriedly.

“I don’t think so. It should disperse before it reaches land.” Jack said with a little hesitance. He was no meteorologist after all. “Do you think I should make it a snowstorm? It doesn’t thunder in winter, I think.”

“I think it can.” The fire-user mentioned, vaguely remembering hearing about a phenomenon known as ‘thunder snow’ during his travels. “We’d better leave it alone.”

They watched the sky continue to turn dark and moody, the remaining white puffballs rapidly transforming into angry cumulonimbus clouds. Ace felt remorseful that he had literally ruined the sunny day, but even as he worried about the humans that might be caught up in the storm, the Summer Spirit could not deny the stirring in his core at the sight of nature’s power.

The way the clouds shifted and churned, the heaviness and tension in the air, the pure force the forming storm exuded… It was almost beautiful.

But that beauty did not distract him for long.

Ace sighed, trying to reign in the stress and worries that plagued him. “I just don’t know what to do.” He whispered. “I can’t just forget Luffy and my crew. But at the same time, I don’t want to make things harder on them by showing up, only to have to leave again whenever North finally opens a portal to your world. I… I feel like I’m being pulled in two directions, and I don’t know which way to go…”

The Guardian studied him with sad blue eyes, breathing out slowly and causing little snowflakes to dance around him.

“I think I finally understand why Manny took away my memories when he made me into the Spirit of Winter.” Jack murmured, almost as if he did not mean for Ace to hear his words. “By the time I remembered my family, they were long gone. I didn’t have anyone to hold me to my mortal life.”

The Winter Spirit laid down on his ice island again, looking up at the gloomy sky. “I won’t tell you what decision is right. Luffy is _your_ little brother, and it’s your choice whether you want to see him again or not. I won’t persuade or dissuade you.”

A part of Ace wanted Jack to care more about his little brother, but he brutally squashed such thoughts before he could voice them. He loved his little brother, he really did, but at the same time the Summer Spirit could understand why Jack distanced himself from the Straw Hat Captain.

Luffy had stopped believing in Jack after Sabo had died, and the fire-user knew that the loss of two believers in one day _still_ hurt the Guardian. Ace had a feeling that Jack was avoiding Luffy in order to keep his own hope that the pirate might actually see him again one day carefully under lock and key where it could not be smothered by rejection.

The Winter Spirit was normally the type to face such things head on and stubbornly attempt to get the result he desired, but when it came to the possibility of people he once cared for walking through him, the Spirit could not handle it. He would rather never find out if Luffy could see him again than have the boy— now young man— walk through him like a ghost.

Ace knew this was Jack’s reasons because, in a way, they were his own reasons now as well. The thought of meeting his brother again, only to be unable to interact with him…

“It’s getting a little hot over here, Ace.” Jack mentioned, creating a frosty haze around himself as the temperature climbed. He also reinforced his little ice island, raising an eyebrow as a chunk fell into the sea. “We really need to keep working on your control before we get back to my world.”

“Oops. Sorry.” Ace apologized.

The fire-user could not stop the pang of worry that gnawed at his gut when he thought about his inevitable job in a _completely different world_. It was true that right now he and Jack were doing little more than flying around the world and making sure Ace had enough control to not cause a natural disaster— or the end of the world— but the knowledge that he was going to have to leave this world and all he knew on it unsettled Ace.

_I’m going to be leaving Luffy behind. We’re already separated by whatever keeps humans from immediately seeing most Spirits and my… issues, but at least in this world I’ll hear if he’s in trouble and needs help. Once North figures out a way to get us back to Jack’s world, will I even be able to come back here? I’m immortal now. What if I come back after losing track of time, and Luffy’s an old man? What if he’s **dead**?_

Ace floated over to Jack’s ice island, landing lightly near the edge. He tried to breathe evenly, but his breaths came out as ragged gasps.

_It’s not just Luffy. I’m going to outlive everyone I know except Jack. Except maybe Marco, but I don’t even know if he’s actually immortal or if that’s a myth. It was fine to think my brothers would die one day when I knew I’d join them but now… I can’t think about this. If I do, I’ll make myself sick. Can Spirits even get sick?_

The crack of thunder startled him out of his near-panic and he looked up to see lightning strike the water, arcing dangerously through the liquid. A moment later it began to pour, with the droplets turning to snow around Jack. Ace was already soaked from his dip in the ocean but knew he could just vaporize the water with his powers to dry off once they reached shelter. He could technically do that now, but the sudden burst of heat would only increase the instability in the air.

The two Spirits began flying through the rain, yelping and laughing as the storm raged around them. Lightning struck the water menacingly, making cracking and booming noises loud enough to make grown men quail, but they were unafraid. Jack and Ace were Mother Nature’s children, and even in a different world they had little to fear from the elements under her control. Or maybe they were just reckless.

But even as he flew, Ace’s thoughts refused to turn away from his brother and the choices he would soon have to face. To see his brother or not. To keep out of the pirate’s affairs or protect him as he always had. To let Luffy keep thinking Ace was dead and gone, or to reveal himself in his new, Immortal form, only to have to leave again eventually.

Did he even have the right to make such a choice anymore?

ROTGOPROTGOP

Marshall D. Teach, also known as Blackbeard, smiled triumphantly as he watched the villagers flee before him. His satisfaction was even sweeter because it was not just any island that he was attacking, but one of the many under Whitebeard’s protection. It felt wonderful to attack those that looked to that old fool to defend them if need arose.

Although the Whitebeard Pirates were still strong, the balance of power had changed after Marineford. New people had been drawn to lives of piracy, seeking glory or treasures or power, inspired to follow their dreams by what had transpired in the Marine stronghold. But not all of the newcomers were kind or genuine people.

Many new and ferocious pirate crews had formed, attacking all in their path and claiming territories that none had dared to invade just a few years earlier. Not only that, but the other Yonko— specifically Big Mom and Kaido— had taken the Whitebeard Pirate’s weakening as a sign to expand their own territories. Even with their strength and numbers, the Whitebeard Pirates were facing opposition from too many sides at once in order to combat them all as quickly as they once did.

Blackbeard briefly wondered if it was because they were still grieving, and sneered visibly at the thought. Those that were hindered by the loss of one person did not deserve to wield such power and influence over the world. It was long past time that Whitebeard and his ‘children’ step aside and let the newer generations make their marks upon the world.

Smiling, the pirate used one of his favorite attacks, sucking up a few escaping villagers and taking down a few buildings along with them. The civilians screamed as they were dragged into the darkness, helpless to avoid their deaths. From nearby Teach’s crew laughed and cheered, marveling at their Captain’s power.

Basking in the praise, Blackbeard almost did not see the change in his darkness, as if another, darker shadow was forming within it. As it were, he easily noticed the glowing yellow eyes that appeared out of nowhere and stared at him from the blackness.

For an unknown reason, Blackbeard felt fear.

His helmsman, Jesus Burgess was the next person to spot the new presence. “What in Oda’s name…?”

The Blackbeard Pirates could only stare in shock as the wraith-like figure became a definitive man, peeling away from Teach’s darkness like a shadow splitting in two. He was tall, clothed in black, with skin as grey as ashes and hair as black as night. The only colors on him were his yellow eyes and white teeth, which flashed when he gave an unreadable smile.

Blackbeard thought he saw a speck of greenish blue flit out of the shadows as well, but before he could think more about it, the man spoke.

“I thought I kept seeing new shadows that weren’t mine popping up somewhere.” The man mused, walking on the darkness that covered the dirt as casually as one walked on solid ground. “Congratulations, human. You made me curious enough to come and investigate.”

The tone in which he spoke was both condescending and sincere, sending a bolt of anger through Blackbeard’s veins.

“Who are you? How did you do that?” the pirate yelled, stepping forward.

Shock crossed the man’s face before a slow, cruel smile formed on grey lips, and yellow eyes gleamed as they studied the pirate.

“You can see me…” the man breathed. He saw them all looking at him at last. “You _all_ can see me…”

“Of course I can see you, you dimwit.” Blackbeard sneered. “Now answer my questions.” Shadows gathered around his hand

“Aww. The little human thinks that he controls Darkness. How adorable.” The man purred, deeply amused.

Fear— This man was _not human_ — and anger— How dare he talk down to him!— warred for dominance in Blackbeard’s gut. Eventually the rage won out and he glowered at the grey man, puffing out his chest.

“Do you think you can mock me? I am Blackbeard, soon-to-be the next Pirate King!”

The shadow man looked unimpressed. “And I say again… how _adorable_. Although…” His expression shifted from boredom into something close to rage. “Even with your vileness and age, I can feel the power of your dream. It’s so… hopeful.” Disgust flitted over his features before vanishing. “Still, if even the dreams of adults have power here… Though you could immediately see _me_ as well…” Yellow eyes glinted with excitement and he gave a genuine smile. “ _Excellent_.”

“What are you blabbing on about?” Teach growled, irritated.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The man said politely, hands up in a calming gesture. “I’m just talking to myself… thinking of the possibilities…” His smile grew unnaturally wide and his gaze changed, almost becoming… hungry. “You have so much _fear_ …”

Annoyed— and ignoring the uncomfortable twist of uneasiness in his chest— Blackbeard swept his hand sideways, letting his darkness fly at the man. The newcomer merely laughed as the blackness flew at him, reaching up a pale grey hand and twirling it lazily.

Blackbeard screamed, barely able to keep his footing as agony ripped through his torso. Like a limb being torn off, Teach felt the darkness break from his control, drifting slowly to the grey man and looping around him like a loyal pet greeting its owner. The man reached up, stroking the Darkness gently.

“You really _do_ think that you can control Darkness. Foolish mortal. I think you need some lessons from an expert.” The man murmured.  “After all, what is Darkness without _fear_?”

The Darkness shot outward, expanding up into the sky like a monster opening its maw. Blackbeard flinched but the Darkness did not touch him. He could only watch in horror as the Darkness swarmed over his crew like a swarm of piranhas, all of them vanishing within it before they could even scream.

Ice crawled up Teach’s spine and he stared at the _thing_ in front of him with terror.

“W-What are you?”

“My name is Pitch Black. I am the Nightmare King. I am Fear. I am Darkness. It is _mine_ to wield.” Pitch snarled, the calm expression he wore dropping like a mask from his face. “And I will _not_ share it with a human.”

The Darkness, vengeful and merciless, lunged like a predator. Blackbeard yelled and was somehow able to dodge the shadowy tendrils, bringing out his own darkness. The pirate howled and fell to his knees, feeling as if he had been stabbed in the chest when Pitch tore the darkness from him, adding it to his own power.

“You are nothing compared to me, human!” Pitch crowed, “You think you control Darkness and shadows, but I am nothing _but_ those things! You don’t understand true Darkness. You have never experienced real nightmares!”

The Darkness settled in his hands, shifting and changing. Before Blackbeard’s eyes, it became a black scythe that was as long as the Captain was tall.

“And you never will.” Pitch stated.

With a single swipe of his black scythe, the Nightmare King beheaded the pirate. Teach’s corpse fell to the ground and the Darkness covering the dirt retreated from him, as if the shadows themselves did not want to be anywhere near their former wielder.

Pitch let the scythe disperse, closing his eyes and letting the aura of this new world wash over him. “So much fear… and despair… and Darkness…” He smiled. “I will gain so much power here.”

Something touched his hand and he opened his eyes. The yellow orbs lit up like a child’s on Christmas, if said child had slight sadism hidden within the glee when they opened an unexpected gift. Nine black creatures stood dutifully beside him, their heads slightly above Pitch’s own, even as they shifted restlessly. The Boogieman reached up, dismissing the warning hiss the creature gave him.

“Well, well. I certainly did not expect to be able to form some of _you_ out of this Darkness.” Pitch mused aloud, gently stroking one of the creatures’ heads. He glanced at the beheaded pirate and sighed. “I should have made him into one of you, too. Oh well.”

The creature snarled menacingly, snapping at his hand, and the Nightmare King smirked.

“This world is perfect for us. It’s brimming with fear and violence, there are so many dreams to crush, and apparently adults can see Spirits as easily as children. As a bonus, there are no _Guardians_ —” He spat the word with all the hatred he could muster. “— here to protect it.”

The Nightmare King stepped back, shooing away the black creatures with a hand. “Now go. Seek out those whose will fall to fear and nightmares and… Well, you know what to do.”

The creatures shot into the sky, clouds gathering ominously as they became smoke-like, soaring through the clouds with speeds unheard of on this world.

Pitch watched them go, yellow eyes glowing with malice. “It’s time for this world to enter a Dark Age. I wonder how long its people will last.”


	2. Nightmares

Monkey D. Luffy, Captain of the Straw Hat Pirates and future Pirate King, hummed vaguely as he looked at the clear blue sky. He could barely hear a few seagulls calling to each other in the distance, along with the soothing sound of waves hitting the shore down below. It the pirate were the poetic type, he may call the comforting, rhythmic noises a song or melody. Of course, he was not the sort of person to think such things. All he knew was that the ocean’s low hum and the birds’ calls calmed him.

Luffy sat on the edge of a cliff, his legs swinging in the open air. He was high enough that he could not feel the ocean’s spray, but low enough to clearly hear the wave’s crashing against the rocks. He supposed it was a good thing the water could not reach him, seeing as how it might make him get dizzy and fall.

No it wouldn’t. Even if the water did somehow reach him here, Ace would never let Luffy plunge off the cliff into the sea. His big brother sat serenely beside him, hands in his lap and posture relaxed as he observed the endless blue abyss above them.

The younger brother idly noticed that the fire-user was not wearing his hat. Ace must have left it hanging on a branch behind them, though Luffy could not fathom why he would do such a thing.

“I’m glad we were able to meet up, Luffy.” Ace said, not looking away from the beautiful view in front of them.

“Me too.” The Straw Hat Captain said eagerly, shooting his brother a beaming smile.

Luffy did not remember exactly when or how he had come to be with his brother on this cliff, only that Ace was with him, and that meant everything was wonderful. With the noteworthy exceptions of Sabo and Shanks, most of his precious people were all together, in one place.

He could not be happier.

The pirate looked to the left and could just see the Thousand Sunny floating peacefully not too far from the beach. He briefly wondered if his crew was waiting for him on the ship or if they were still on the island. They must have stopped here for a reason, right? Or was it just because Ace was here?

A stray thought niggled at the back of his mind, the feeling that something was wrong with this scene pestering Luffy insistently. He disregarded it, laying down on the soft grass and squinting at the sun. Ace remained sitting up, his gaze shifting to follow the former path of his brother’s. The fire-user sighed, and even the infamously-oblivious Luffy was able to tell how mournful the noise was.

“Hey, Lu? Even with our own crews, we’re still family, aren’t we?” Ace asked softly.

Luffy sat up abruptly, wide dark eyes fixating on the fire-user’s pensive face.

“Of course Ace is still a part of my family!” Luffy gasped, shocked that his brother could ever think he was not one of the Straw Hat Captain’s most precious people. “Remember the promise we made? You’re my brother, and always will be. That will never change.”

Ace’s grey eyes grew impossibly sad. “Really?” he queried, voice carrying the same, somber tone that made something in Luffy’s chest squeeze uncomfortably. “I’m still your family? But families are supposed to protect and never hurt each other, right?”

Befuddlement momentarily gripped Luffy but he pushed it aside, reaching for Ace and pulling him into a rubbery hug. “Of course! You already know that.”

The lanky pirate looked up at his brother, who smiled back at him, grey eyes soft.

“Then why…”

Blood dripped from Ace’s mouth, his white grin turning red.

“ _… did you kill me?_ ”

Something warm and sticky was covering Luffy’s right arm. He looked down to see his own fist was punched through Ace’s chest, his clenched hand protruding from his brother’s back. The younger pirate flinched, mouth opening, but no sound came out. Luffy jerked back, pulling his arm out of the gruesome wound, and Ace slumped onto his shoulder, breathing harsh and gurgling.

Crimson splattered onto the ground, a pool of red surrounding the two brothers as everything else faded into darkness. The ocean, the sky, the sun all vanished, with only the cold ground, the two brothers, and the blood remaining. Luffy could not move, could not even scream as he watched his brother’s lifeblood drain from him and stain the earth, his body going weak.

Ace spoke weakly, tears in his eyes and pain in his every word. “Why, Luffy?” he choked, coughing up red. “ _Why did you let me die?_ ”

Before the pirate could respond, his brother turned to ash in his arms.

Luffy bolted awake, breathing sharp and body covered in sweat. His teeth clenched as he kept himself from screaming, and his eyes roved over his dark room frantically. The pirate sat up, turning on the lamp beside his bed and illuminating his room. He looked down at his trembling hands, and was relieved that they were free of blood. Luffy let out a sharp breath and clenched his fists to stop their shaking.

“Just a dream.” He mumbled. “A nightmare.”

The pirate flopped back down on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Again he checked his hands, spreading the fingers apart and turning them over. He blinked and suddenly there was crimson staining his skin. Luffy’s breath hitched but when he blinked again, the blood was gone.

Swallowing roughly, the pirate put his hands to his face, fingers gripping and pulling at his hair.

“Just a nightmare.” He whispered. “Just a nightmare. It wasn’t real.”

Except parts of it was. Luffy would never forget how Ace died to protect him. The feeling of his brother’s blood on his hands and front, how Ace had struggled to say his final goodbyes, how his grey eyes had been filled with agony even as he smiled and passed into death… The horrible memories would haunt Luffy forever.

The pirate could only hope that the nightmares would not. They were not nearly as common as the months after Ace’s death, but Luffy estimated that he had one at least once every week or two lately.

That is, until three nights ago when he had started having them every single night. The first night had the usual scene where he dreamt of Ace’s exact death and what happened after, Akainu, coma-like blackout and all. The next night he remained conscious for the aftermath and watched as his brother’s unseeing grey eyes turned to Luffy, the fire-user hollowly asking why he had not saved him. And tonight…

Tonight it was his own hand that had murdered Ace.

Luffy gulped, struggling not to vomit. His hands continued to shake like leaves in a storm. It had been so vivid, so _clear_ , as if the dream had been as real as the world around him now. Once again he had to stop himself from crying out as he recalled how it felt to have his brother’s blood on his hands. He could not let himself scream or cry, no matter how much he wanted to.

His crew was tired after having to deal with an unexpected storm that had snuck up on them a few nights ago. It was only through luck that their ship had not been damaged when the air around them had turned into an arena of wind, rain, and lightning.

Everyone from Zoro to Nami to even Law were beyond exhausted once they managed to escape the hurricane, but Luffy knew that if he made a sound his entire crew— and a totally-not-concerned Law— would be breaking his door down not long after.

That would only lead to questions the Straw Hat Captain did not want to answer. Luffy was open, friendly, and blunt to a fault, and he cared for his nakama more than anyone, but even he had secrets he wanted to keep from them. His nightmares were one of them. Yes, night terrors were to be expected after such a traumatic event, but still…

_I thought I was getting better_ , Luffy mused. _I thought I was to the point where I could think of Ace—_

Again, Luffy thought he saw blood on his hands. He flinched.

_— without dreaming of his death. We’re in the New World. What if I lose someone else because I was too tired to protect them?_

Fear, cold and icy, trickled into the pirate’s gut and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to even out his breathing.

_Maybe it’s only because I’ve got nothing to do but think while we’re in the middle of the ocean. Nami and Franky would get mad if I break the ship when practicing, and we haven’t spotted any other ships in days, Marine or Pirate. I’m so_ bored _._

As his thoughts went sideways, Luffy almost forgot about his nightmare. It was only because he looked at his treasured straw hat and saw the tiny slip of paper within it that his mood soured once more.

If he told his crew about the nightmares, they would worry about him, when it was his job to worry about them. Everyone would get all somber and moody, glancing sidelong at their Captain and wondering if he was okay. They’d ask questions, and not like the answers, and Luffy, quite frankly, did not feel as if he could deal with that happening. And as much as he liked Traffy, he did not want the Heart Pirates Captain to know he woke up screaming during the night.

His crew and Law did not need to know about his nightmares. Luffy could handle them on his own, like he had before. It was not like they could do anything about them anyway.

ROTGOPROTGOP

The next morning, the Thousand Sunny anchored near an island that was rather underwhelming-looking for one being in the New World. The trees were green and bright, the beaches were clean and friendly-looking, and the cliffs almost looked soft. There was not even any ominous fog.

“Well, this island looks normal.” Usopp commented as he squinted at the forest. “What’s the catch?”

“Why does there have to be a catch?” Chopper asked, looking rather relieved that they were not at another one of those crazy climate islands for once.

“Because we’re in the New World with Luffy.” Usopp pointed out. “That means that we simply can’t land on a normal island and have a normal day.”

“Define ‘normal’.” Nami demanded, hand on her hip.

The sniper thought about it. “No monster attacks, no accidentally starting revolutions, no bumping into royalty, no Marine ambushes, nothing trying to kill us—”

“No fun, you mean.” Franky interrupted. “I personally think our adventures are all SUPER!” He struck a pose, but everyone ignored him.

“Why have we even stopped here, Straw Hat-ya?” Law asked, shifting on his feet and eying the forest warily.

His ally gave him a beaming, idiotic smile. “Because I felt like it. And there could be something cool here on…” He trailed off, frowning. “Hey, Robin. What’s this island called again?”

“The Island of Wood and Cliffs.” Robin replied.

Nami snorted. “Really? I _never_ would have thought that.”

“Perhaps.” The archeologist said calmly. “I don’t recall ever reading about anything of interest here. There are only a couple of villages scattered throughout the island, and none are of any note…”

Luffy had already wandered off, running into the forest while calling back over his shoulder. “I’m gonna see if there’s anything fun to fight! Or eat! Or fight _then_ eat!”

“Doesn’t he realize there’s a town with restaurants less than a mile that way?” Nami asked, pointing to their right. She sighed and then answered her own question. “Of course he doesn’t.”

“I’ll go make sure nothing eats our Captain. Again.” Zoro said flatly, gripping a sword hilt and following the excited pirate.

“And _I’ll_ go make sure the shitty Marimo doesn’t get lost.” Sanji grumbled, stalking after them both while muttering under his breath.

The remaining Straw Hat Pirates all looked at each other, wondering what they should do.

“Well, if this island is one of the safer ones, I should go to town to find some medicines I need.” Chopper piped up. “We’re running low on a few of them.” The reindeer looked hopefully at his crewmates. “Would any of you like to come with me?”

“Sorry, but I have to make sure the Thousand Sunny is okay after that rough storm.” Franky said in his usual exuberant voice. “I can’t have my beautiful masterpiece be anything less than SUPER!”

“I’m afraid that I also cannot explore this beautiful island.” Brook said morosely. “I have been inspired, and must work on my newest song before it falls out of my skull, yohohoho. Skull joke.”

“I promised Brook I would watch him practice.” Robin informed the doctor gently.

Nami was about to decline as well when she saw Chopper look pleadingly at her. The navigator groaned mentally, unable to resist the reindeer’s hopeful, innocent eyes.

“…I’ll go with you.” She muttered. “And so will Usopp.”

“Actually I was going to go back to the ship—” The sniper began.

Chopper wilted, and Nami turned slowly with a menacing aura, staring at Usopp with the promise of murder in her eyes. “No. You’re _going with us_.”

The navigator did not need to say any more. Forced to choose between facing an unknown island and inciting Nami’s wrath…

The sniper twitched fearfully. “On second thought, this island seems great and peaceful and there’s nothing to be afraid of at all, ha ha ha. I could totally use some new, uh, nice rocks for my sling. Yup.” He smiled nervously.

The dark aura around Nami vanished and she smiled sweetly. “That’s what I thought. What about you, Traffy?”

The Captain of the Heart Pirates was unaffected by the warning glower that the orange-haired thief gave him, his hat shadowing his eyes. “No.”

The navigator’s eye twitched. “And why not?”

“I don’t want to.” Law said bluntly. “Knowing you Straw Hats, you’ll run into trouble the moment you step into town. I don’t want to be caught in another hare-brained scheme.”

“But Chopper might need help with deciding what medicines and tools to buy.” Nami wheedled in a disarming voice. “Seeing as how you’re a surgeon, maybe you could help him.”

The Heart Pirates Captain looked unimpressed “I said that I am not going to—”

Law winced, stumbling slightly, and clapped his hand to the top of his head. He frowned and took off his hat, looking at it. Grumbling under his breath, he put the cap back on. “I thought I felt something hit me. Must’ve been a stupid leaf.”

“You know, you seem kind of tired.” Chopper mentioned nervously, noting the darker than usual shadows under the surgeon’s eyes. “You had to keep moving around debris _and_ us during the storm with your abilities, so maybe you should take a rest?”

The doctor’s advice was carefully worded as a suggestion that Law could follow if he pleased. Unlike with his own crew, Chopper did not try to make the surgeon to follow his commands. They all knew Law did not like being ordered around, and Chopper was still unwilling to push past the man’s boundaries to see if he would listen to him or not.

Their aloof ally’s eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the doctor’s words. “I am not inhibited in any way… but I do admit that it would be nice to be able to sleep without you loud crazy people making a racket.”

Nami opened her mouth to angrily retort that they were not ‘loud crazy people’, thank you very much, but stopped when she realized that they kind of were…

The navigator huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. Usopp and I will go with Chopper to town. It’s less than a mile from here, so you’ll know if there’s any trouble.”

“Have a SUPER time!” Franky called enthusiastically, waving.

The three Straw Hat Pirates began the comparatively short trek to the closest village, cutting through the dense forest that surrounded the beach they had landed on. Even as birds sang in the treetops and the leaves rustled gently around them, Nami felt unease trickle through her. It was almost _too_ peaceful, too serene to not be hiding something malevolent within.

She kept her hand on the hostler that contained the pieces of her Clima-Tact, ready to pull out and assemble the weapon the moment something unfriendly popped out of the foliage. Usopp and Chopper were being cautious as well, with the sniper’s hand twitching towards his own weapon and the doctor looking around constantly with wary eyes.

Naturally, no enemies rose up to attack them, and when the town came into sight as they walked through a cliff-sided valley to reach it, Nami felt silly for being so tense. The town was simple and small, made up of only a few streets and well-placed buildings lined neatly up in rows. A quick scan of the place as they entered revealed no Marines ready to attack them.

In fact, there weren’t any people at all.

Not a single person walked on the cobblestone streets, leaving them eerily barren. A few bags and other items were scattered around the street, as if someone had dropped them and left in a hurry. The only sounds Nami could hear were the wind, the crash of a door opening and shutting repeatedly, and a barely discernable high-pitched whining noise.

_Something isn’t right_ , the navigator thought.

“Where are all the villagers?” Usopp asked, looking around at the empty streets. “I don’t see anyone.”

 “Maybe they’re at a festival in another town?” Chopper asked.

“Maybe.” The sniper mentioned, but even he did not believe his lie. “Uh. Do you really need those medical supplies or whatever?”

“Well—” Chopper began, but Nami interrupted him.

“Oh no.” she almost snarled. “You are _not_ wasting my time by making me come here, and not buy anything. We are _getting_ those supplies.”

Nami stalked forward purposely, shutting the wind-blown door to an unknown person’s home so it would stop making a racket. The wind howled mournfully, seemingly louder than before, and in the background the navigator still heard the continuous strange shrieking sound. It sent shivers up her spine, and her arms prickled.

Following the noise, the orange-haired pirate opened an unlocked door and entered a deserted restaurant. Plates and food were still on a few of the tables, and many of the chairs around the place were knocked onto their sides.

Some personal belongings such as bags or purses had been left behind as well, but the thief ignored the potential free Beri for the moment. On the other side of the bar, she could see a tea kettle whining loudly, steam spurting from its spout. The navigator strode over to the stove, turning it off.

The whistling cut off abruptly, leaving behind a suffocating silence.

Usopp let out a high-pitched, undignified giggle. “Maybe the villagers like to prank visitors?”

“What kind of people would leave Beri behind for a prank like this?” Nami demanded as she dug through a few of the abandoned bags, pocketing any valuables that interested her.

Her two crewmates did not try to dissuade her, used to the thief’s kleptomania. Usopp watched the door, sling out and ready to fight, even as his hands shook.

“I really don’t like this. Can we just get your stuff and get out of here now?” the sniper begged Chopper.

The doctor mumbled an affirmative and they went deeper into the town, which was just as hastily abandoned as the outskirts. Many doors were wide open and slamming in the wind, but Nami did not feel like going around and closing each of them. The only thing that kept her from going into the homes to see if there was anything worth stealing was the air of unease and danger that covered the whole place.

The part of her that insisted that she should _really_ assemble her weapon now was continuously ignored. The problem with this town was not that there were people that wanted to hurt them, but that _there was nothing there at all_. The navigator found herself wishing that _something_ would happen already, just so that the building tension plaguing them would cease.

The pharmacy door— like so many others— was wide open, but it at least was meant to be. A small block of wood acted as a doorstop, letting potential customers know that they were welcome to come in. The inside of the shop was surprisingly clean and tidy compared to the rest of the town, with not a single bottle or product on the floor or out of place. If the owner had fled like the rest of the town, then he had done so without causing a mess.

Chopper’s gaze zeroed in on one of the many items on the shelf and headed towards it, brightening considerably.

“This is exactly what I need!” the doctor said excitedly, running through the aisles and grabbing items off the shelves with the air of someone who knew exactly what they were looking for.

Nami produced a large bag and stuffed everything Chopper handed to her into it, being careful to wrap any fragile-looking items in the paper she found behind the counter. Soon enough, the doctor had everything he needed. The navigator hefted the bulging sack over her shoulder, more than ready to depart.

“Great, we got your stuff. Let’s _go_.”

“We have to pay first.” Chopper pointed out.

All three Straw Hats looked at the barren counter.

“No we don’t.” the orange-haired female of their group huffed.

Chopper looked uncertain. “But some of these are really expensive, and this is someone’s livelihood…”

“We’re pirates.” Usopp mentioned hesitantly.

“Yeah, we are.” Nami grumbled. “Which means we’re not giving any Beri to people who don’t bother to run their own store.”

She shifted the bag of medical supplies to a more comfortable position on her shoulder and stalked out the door. Chopper and Usopp hurried after her, with the sniper closing the door gently behind them. The doctor’s ears twitched and he stilled, glancing around nervously.

“Does anyone else feel like we’re being watched?”

“If I do, I can’t tell because I’m already creeped out by this place.” Usopp informed him, twirling his sling in one hand. “I mean, not that anything here could stand a chance against the Great Sogeking, but…” His usual bravado was absent even as he said the words. “Can we leave now, _please_?”

The Straw Hats did not run, but they walked very quickly out of the town and back into the forest. It seemed to be darker than before, with long shadows stretching across the ground. Nami listened for the birds’ singing, and discerned that they were either gone or being absolutely silent. The sounds of their footsteps were as loud as gunshots in the silence, but the navigator did not want to slow down in an attempt to quiet their footfalls.

_Move faster,_ Nami’s mind urged her, nervous and fearful in the face of the unknown. _Get back to the others._

As they passed through the canyon-like valley surrounded by cliffs, the three Straw Hats stuck close together, looking around warily. The sounds of three footsteps became two and Nami and Usopp stopped, turning to look at Chopper. The reindeer was frozen in place, gaze directed upward.

The doctor’s eyes widened with terror as he looked up at the clifftop. “N-Nami.” His voice came out as a shaky squeak. “M-Mon—”

The navigator followed Chopper’s gaze and her heart froze in her chest.

Six monsters stood at the top of the rocky cliffs, staring down at the Straw Hat Pirates. They were black and oddly unstable, as if they were made from smoke or shadows. They almost looked like horses that were the color of night, but their shape would constantly shiver and shift.

Their eyes glowed like demons’ and as Nami stood there, unable to move or even gasp in fear, one gave an unearthly scream. It sounded like a mix of a human shriek and an animal’s dying, terrified cry.

Usopp gave his own scream, and the monsters seemed to grow even larger without getting closer. Nami forced her body to move, dropping the sack, grabbing the shuddering Chopper and sniper, and running as fast as she could into the woods. Behind them, the creatures screeched like demonic horses, flying down the cliff and giving chase.

The sniper swiftly regained his footing and flight instinct, dragging Nami and the still-frozen Chopper along as he ran at breakneck speeds. Usopp gripped the navigator’s hand so tightly her fingers were growing numb.

“Luffy!” Nami screamed as they ran. “Zoro! Sanji! _Help!_ ”

The creatures were moving just fast enough to keep them in sight, but Nami knew deep down that, if they wanted to, they could catch up and take out the Straw Hats at any moment. Two of the creatures sped up, flanking the fleeing pirates, and the navigator fearfully recognized a commonly used pack hunting maneuver.

Surprisingly, Usopp was the first to try to attack the creatures, out of a burst of self-preservation or fear Nami did not know. The sniper paused for a moment and shot at one of the monsters with his exploding Pop Green, hitting its nose. The projectile detonated in the monster’s face, only for the dust to clear and show the monster was unscathed. The creature only snorted, shaking its mane before rejoining the chase.

“Uh oh.” Usopp said faintly, even as he turned on his heel and bolted after his still-running crewmates.

Nami did not even think to draw her own weapon, only able to comprehend the pounding of her heart, the sound of the monsters’ hooves as they galloped behind her, and her crewmates’ terrified breaths as they fled before the creatures. A root caught her foot and as she tumbled, all the navigator could do was tumble face-first onto the ground, head smacking against the dirt.

“Nami!” she heard Chopper scream.

She turned, eyes widening as one of the creatures pounced like a wolf, eyes gleaming with triumph and unstable body rippling as it went for the kill. A fist slammed into the side of the creature’s head and it crumpled, falling apart like sand.

“Luffy!” Nami gasped.

Her captain landed in front of Nami in a crouch, the skin on his arm still darkened from the use of Armament Haki. His eyes were shadowed by his hat, and for once his face was serious, not even the slightest grin on his features. Around him the other creatures snorted and neighed in their eerie tones, keeping their distance as they studied the human that had killed one of their own.

“Hey, Robin. I thought you said this island was normal.” Luffy commented, still uncharacteristically stern.

“It appears that I was mistaken.” The archeologist said as she, Law, and the others emerged from the trees, eying the creatures with varying degrees of wariness.

“Are you all right, Nami-swan?” Sanji asked tersely. “We heard your scream from the beach.”

“F-Fine.”

Even with her Captain and crew here, the navigator could not stop the fear pulsing through her veins. There was something about these creatures that was unnatural, _wrong_ , as if they were not meant to exist in this world. Her eyes caught those of one and its yellow orbs seemed to glow brighter. As if they were reacting to her fear, the monsters gave another unearthly screech and lunged.

Hands sprouted from two of their backs, reaching up to snap their necks. Another was destroyed by Sanji’s swift Armament Haki-enhanced kick, and the fifth was sliced to pieces by Zoro. The final creature, realizing it was the last, gave an angry-sounding hiss before leaping into the sky, galloping away too quickly for Law to trap it in his Room or Luffy to try to grab it.

The Straw Hats stood for a moment, gazing down at the piles of black sand on the ground in front of them.

“What the hell were those things?” Law asked testily, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. And why were you guys running from them? They were easy to beat.” Luffy piped up, calmer but still irritated that one of his enemies had gotten away.

“My Pop Greens didn’t work on them.” The sniper admitted reluctantly. “And… I think they might’ve killed everyone in the town. It… It was completely empty when we got there.”

There was a heartbeat of uneasy silence as his words sank in. Almost all of them had the same thought, but they refused to voice their suspicions aloud. Nami felt her fear of the creatures grow. Could they really have…?

Chopper groaned abruptly, slapping his forehead. “The supplies. This is all my fault! I insisted that we go to get supplies, and we dropped those somewhere in the woods when we were attacked, so in the end we went to town for _nothing_ —”

“I’ll go get the bag.” Sanji offered kindly, an unlit cigarette stuck in his mouth.

“Look out for more of those monsters.” Robin warned. “I think that you might only be able to kill them with Haki or a Devil Fruit ability. That means those without Devil Fruits or Haki will die if they try to fight them.”

Sometimes, the crew forgot about the archaeologist’s tendency to be morbidly blunt.

“Really? Great.” Nami said unhappily. _That means that even if I did use my Clima-Tact, it would have been useless._

Law crouched next to the black sand that the creatures had dissolved into, a vial in his hand as he put some of the sand within it, careful not to touch the dark substance. He did not explain himself as he corked the vial and pocketed it, but Nami knew their private ally well enough to recognize the curiosity in his grey eyes.

Sanji returned with the medical supplies, which were mostly undamaged, and the Straw Hats quickly retreated to the Thousand Sunny. Luffy protested of course, wanting to hunt down the monster that had tried to hurt his nakama, but Zoro eventually talked him down by saying the creature had obviously flown somewhere else.

No one mentioned that they should investigate the other villages to see if anyone was there. None of them wanted to. And with their luck, if they stayed Marines would show up and blame them for the islanders’ disappearances.

“What _do_ you think those creatures were?” Nami asked the crew at large as they all loitered on the Sunny’s deck, still pale from her encounter with the monsters.

“They may have been creations made by an unknown Devil Fruit user, or a new creature native to the New World, or even an experiment gone wrong.” Law explained as he held up the vial of black sand. “We should try to see if this stuff can give us any answers.”

“Why? It’s just sand.” Luffy said, only interested in making sure the creatures did not hurt his nakama again.

With the thought of who he was talking to in mind, Law replied in a way that would hopefully keep the Straw Hat Captain’s attention. “Because we may run into more of them, and we aren’t one-hundred percent sure that Haki and Devil Fruit powers are what can kill them. If those things really did wipe out that village, they are dangerous. We now have an unknown enemy out there that is capable of flight and is resistant to many attacks. We know nothing about them, which means that for all we know they are not just random monsters. We may have stumbled upon something we were not supposed to, and need to be ready for another fight.”

The Straw Hats were silent as they took in his grave, foreboding words.

Usopp moaned morosely. “So much for having a normal day.”

ROTGOPROTGOP

Baby Tooth saw everything from her perch on the mushroom-hatted man’s— Law’s— cap. She had been flying alone ever since she followed Pitch through one of his shadows to this world, and had just so happened to stumble upon— _fall onto_ — this strange group of possibly-pirates through sheer luck. The Fairy had thought she had sensed some of Jack’s ice in the darkness on the other side of the shadows that had led her here, so she had dove into the darkness without hesitation in an attempt to find her friend.

She did not expect to end up in a world mostly covered by water and with pirates sailing the seas, but according to Tooth this was exactly where Jack had ended up nearly twenty-three years ago. Manny claimed Jack was okay, and had found a new Spirit of Summer and potential Guardian to boot, but Baby Tooth still worried for her friend ever since he fell through that portal.

Now she was finally in the other world and could look for Jack… if she was not so tired.

The air here was wrong. There was so much fear, and it was difficult for the Fairy to fly without Tooth’s believers. So she crash landed on the fluffy-looking hat of the one known as Law, sluggishly flitting away and landing more gently when he unintentionally tried to swat her.

Baby Tooth sighed in relief, glad that these humans had been able to defeat the Nightmares on the island. At the same time, she was worried. These Nightmares were not the same creatures that Pitch had created when he first got to this world. They were also fiercer-looking, stronger, and more durable than the Nightmares Pitch had made back on Earth. That meant only one thing.

The Nightmare King was more powerful here, and he was building his army again. He was going to try to drag this world into a Dark Age, and would eventually destroy it like he had done so many times before.

Baby Tooth settled comfortably on Law’s hat, the world literally making her weary. She would just rest for a little bit, then she would have to go find Jack and the new Summer Spirit— Ace— and warn them about Pitch. Hopefully Manny would tell the other Guardians what Pitch was doing and send them here.

Jack and Ace would not be able to beat Pitch alone. He was already too strong. For the sake of this world, North, Bunny, Tooth, and Sandy needed to get here, soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Baby Tooth. I also love the thought of Baby Tooth riding on Law’s hat without him knowing. XD


	3. Discoveries

Nicholas St. North focused intently on the ice sculpture he was carving. It was a miniature ship that would soon come alive, able to float around his office running on pure magic. Around him, his other creations were whirring, soaring, spinning, and humming, toys and other sources of Wonder gathered together in a collection of joy and awe.

The Guardian carefully sliced off another thin layer of ice, blowing gently on his creation to brush away the unwanted shavings. The ship was a brig sloop, with a lion-shaped figurehead that mimicked a sunflower and a large number one on its side. North did not know what exactly had inspired him to make such an odd, unique design for the ship, but who was he to question the path of his creativity? His creation was almost complete. All that was left to do was shape a tiny helm—

The office door crashed open, making North jump and shatter the sculpture in his hand. The Cossack watched the ice fall like sparkly dust to the floor and sighed in exasperation. He turned to the Yeti that had burst into his office.

“What have I said about knocking?”

The unapologetic Yeti said something in his native tongue, urgency in his tone. North straightened at his words, broken sculpture immediately forgotten.

“Manny needs to speak with us? Well why didn’t you say so? I’ll activate the Lights!”

The Yeti merely groaned and wandered off, more than used to the Guardian’s absentminded behavior.

Half an hour later Toothiana, E. Aster Bunnymund, and Sanderson Mansnoozie had all joined North in the Globe Room, summoned by the Aurora Borealis. The Pooka tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, warding off an elf that tried to give him some eggnog and cookies with an irritated wave.

“Why do you always call us right before my holiday, North?” Bunny growled. “I swear you’re try’na sabotage me.”

“Thanks for idea, but no.” the Guardian of Wonder chuckled before growing serious. “Man in Moon wants to talk to us.”

The Guardian of Hope looked up at the Moon that floated serenely in the sky. “Get on with it, then. I have things to do.” His words were brash but his tone held a slight fondness as he addressed MiM.

“We can’t start yet.” Tooth protested, the eight Mini Fairies that came with her nodding in agreement. “Jack isn’t here— Oh. Right.”

Her multicolored feathers drooped as she recalled that the Winter Spirit was not on Earth. Sandy laid a hand on her arm comfortingly and gestured for North to begin.

North turned to the Moon. “Manny! What do you need, old friend?”

Moonbeams shone down from the sky, forming images and speaking in a way that only the Guardians could decipher. At first none of the four responded to his news, unable to believe what the Man in the Moon had just told them.

“Pitch has gone to the same world as Jack?” Tooth gasped.

As if her words had been a trigger, the other Guardians came to life. Bunny let loose a string of Australian insults that Jack would have loved to hear and make fun of. North did not beat around the bush and went straight for curses in Russian. Symbols appeared rapidly over Sandy’s head, too quickly for any of the others to attempt to try to decode them. And Tooth’s Fairies huddled close together, squeaking worriedly.

The moonbeams continued to ‘speak’, the Man in the Moon’s next sentence only distressing Tooth further.

“Baby Tooth went with him?” she fretted. “Oh no. I noticed that I hadn’t heard from her in a few days but I thought that she was out collecting teeth and I lost track of her!”

The Mini Fairies settled on their ‘mother’s’ head and shoulders, crooning softly in an attempt to comfort the distraught Guardian of Memories.

“Let’s not waste any time then.” Bunny said, pulling out his boomerangs. “North, grab one of yer Snow Globes and let’s go kick Pitch’s arse back under the bed.”

“ _Nyet_. Is not that simple.” The Cossack said regretfully. “I still cannot figure out why the Snow Globes can go to the other world, but refuse to open portals back to Earth. Pitch can travel freely between the worlds without problems, but we cannot. Even if we did take Snow Globes there, we would be unable to return here. And Pitch would not hesitate to attack Earth when we are not on it. Getting there will not be the problem. Getting _back_ will.”

“What about some of the other Spirits?” Bunny demanded. “Can’t they keep watch while we’re gone?”

The Pooka was not normally the type to suggest such a thing, but the thought of leaving Pitch to do what he pleased on the other world rubbed him the wrong way.

North gave him a look. “You know as well as I do that the only Spirit other than us that stand a chance against Pitch are Mother Nature and her Seasons. And she will not help us. She is a neutral party.”

Bunnymund threw his paws up in frustration. “At least tell me MiM told Jack about Pitch?”

The Moon reluctantly informed the Guardians he could no longer contact Jack in the other world, only observe, ever since he used his power alongside Mother Nature’s there three years ago. He also mentioned that it was becoming increasingly difficult to even see there, a thick haze covering his view like a growing shadow.

“Do you think that world is dangerous? Is that why it’s been blocked off from the rest of the galaxy?” Tooth asked, flitting about in the air with ruffled feathers. “I hope Jack is okay.”

Her Mini Fairies looked equally distressed at the thought of Jack and his snow-white teeth being in peril.

“Manny would tell us if Frostbite was in trouble.” Bunny assured them gruffly. “The Show Pony is probably frolicking in the snowfields and harassing people right now. Besides, I’m pretty sure that Ace kid will keep him out of trouble.”

“Ace?” North’s face went blank as he tried to recall who the Pooka was referring to. His blue eyes lit up. “Ah, the new Spirit of Summer and potential Guardian!” He looked eagerly up at the Moon. “Manny, we should make him a Guardian as soon as he comes to Pole. No waiting this time. We’ll throw a party!”

A couple elves immediately scampered off to get their trumpets and other instruments. North caught one by the hat, preventing it from leaving the room. The elf continued to attempt to run, feet moving uselessly above the ground.

“He is not here yet. No music.” The Guardian of Wonder chided with a nostalgic smile.

The elf pouted and dropped from his hold before wandering off dejectedly. The elves that had managed to grab their instruments threw them on the ground or huffed angrily, upset that there was no party to play their music at.

“I must admit, I too am excited to meet Jack’s friend.” The Guardian of Wonder admitted jovially to the others. His expression grew solemn. “We should thank him for believing in Jack all these years.”

Bunny and Tooth exchanged a glance, while Sandy nodded seriously. An image of a flame and snowflake playing and dancing together floated over his head.

The tall Pooka crossed his arm over his chest, a stern expression on his face. “I still don’t like having to stay here like this. Are we really going to leave Frostbite and Firecracker to fight Pitch alone?”

“If the situation gets bad, we go.” North said without hesitation. “With or without a way back. Just because the world is not ours, does not mean we will leave its people to the Nightmare King.”

ROTGOPROTGOP

“ _Snoooooowwwww Daaaaaayyyyy_!” Jack shouted.

The Spirit swooped down from the cloudy gray sky, laughing maniacally. Snow fell heavily around him, covering the small town below with a thick layer of white. The Winter Spirit did not bother holding back his power as he let the flakes dance around him, floating and soaring randomly in the air.

The island he and Ace had flown too was one of the New World’s Winter Islands, the type where it snowed all year round. Jack could not be happier. Here he did not need to keep a lid on his Seasonal powers, letting them loose after weeks of keeping them contained.

It was as if the Guardian had been holding his breath for hours and could finally let the air in his lungs free. Relief, joy, and an adrenaline-like rush flowed through the Spirit, and he had to hold back another exhilarated chortle. The already frigid air grew colder and colder as Jack let himself manipulate it, whooping and laughing as he flew haphazardly in the sky like a drunk.

He could hear Ace chuckling behind him, watching with amusement as the Winter Spirit played, literally in his element. Jack glanced at his sworn brother and snorted when he saw the snowflakes turn into steam before they could touch Ace’s skin. The Summer Spirit was completely unbothered by the cold, but still looked slightly crestfallen that he could not join the Guardian of Fun as he frolicked in the snow.

Ace perched on a low rooftop, sitting down, and the snow around him immediately melted, leaving the roof clear. The new Summer Spirit’s lip jutted out in a pout as steam wafted into the air.

“Damn it.” He cursed dejectedly.

“You’ll be able to touch snow eventually.” Jack encouraged him. “It took me a couple decades to stop freezing everything when I went through the other seasons. The Spirit of Spring would always get so mad whenever I froze her flowers.” He smiled fondly at the memory of being chased through the sky by the irate Spirit. The Guardian was proud to admit she never caught him.

“It took you that long to walk around without affecting everything?” Ace questioned glumly.

“Yeah. But the other Guardians think it took a lot longer.” Jack confided slyly. “I kept freezing Bunny’s ears together whenever I ran into him and claimed that I couldn’t control my powers for about a hundred extra years.”

Ace snorted. “I bet he was happy about that.”

“He was absolutely thrilled.” Jack claimed loftily. His expression grew solemn as his companion stayed melancholic. “Really, don’t worry about having absolute control yet. You’re trying to manipulate _nature_. You have a long way to go. No one expects you to be a master in a couple of years.” He hesitated before continuing. “Though to be honest, if it weren’t for ‘freezing cold’ being this island’s natural climate _and_ my presence here, this place would be experiencing its first heatwave.”

More snow melted around the Summer Spirit, water dripping off the edge of the roof and making a few people look up in surprise as the liquid splashed onto their heads.

“Great. How was that supposed to make me feel better?” Ace complained.

The Guardian of Fun waved his hands in front of him a placating manner. “I’m just letting you know so you don’t overestimate your control and end up doing something stupid.”

“And now you’re insulting my intelligence.” Ace grumbled. “You’re a mean older brother.”

“Like you weren’t.” Jack teased, and instantly regretted it.

Ace’s face fell, misery flashing over his features before he hid it behind an unbothered mask. “Yeah. I _was_ a bit of a brat to Luffy when we were kids, wasn’t I?”

He sounded so wistful, and Jack found his heart clenching in empathy. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” the Summer Spirit interrupted, fiery eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. “I need to get over myself and stop sinking into a depression whenever I think about Luffy.” His tone was intentionally sarcastic, but still held a tinge of grief.

Jack floated down and sat next to Ace on the rooftop, the snow unable to decide whether it should melt because of the fire-user or stay frozen because of the ice-wielder. It showed just how upset the Guardian had made the new Spirit when heat won out and the area around Jack stayed thawed and free of snow and frost.

The Winter Spirit looked upwards at the sky, humming vaguely and pretending to focus on making it snow harder, while in reality his thoughts were on the quiet ex-pirate beside him.

_I don’t know what to say_ , he mused helplessly. _This isn’t exactly something you can get a ‘feel better!’ card for. Is this why Manny took my memories away when he made me a Spirit?_ Jack wondered. _Being alone was terrible, but if I were unable to interact with my family and eventually had to watch them— and my sister—grow old and_ die _…_

He shuddered at the thought.

Ace noticed the Guardian’s dropping mood and appeared to pull himself out of his funk. “Don’t worry about it, Jack. Have some fun. It’s not every day that you can go all out somewhere. And since I can’t throw snowballs yet, you’ll just have to pull double duty on pranking these poor villagers.”  

Jack could not tell if his smile was real or not, but returned it anyway. “You’re right. These people look so grumpy. Maybe a snowball fight will brighten their day.”

With that, the Guardian casually threw a snowball at a particularly sour-looking man, both Spirits cracking up at the indignant, stunned look on his face when the white orb smacked him in the nose. Jack did not put any of his ‘fun magic’ into the snowballs he threw at the adults, knowing it was unlikely to work on them, but soon enough the children he had benignly targeted had started an all-out war in the middle of the street.

Ace laughed from the rooftop as he watched Jack play with the kids, both Spirits unseen by the human participants but enjoying the fight nonetheless. More snowballs hit the buildings or passing adults than the eager children, but the elder villagers took it in stride, chuckling or rolling their eyes at the young ones’ antics.

Jack tossed a snowball at Ace and pouted when it vaporized before it could hit the Summer Spirit in the chest. “You’re no fun.”

“That was totally unintentional.” The fire-user claimed with a straight face.

Jack tapped his staff on the ground and the snow that was hanging off of the second-story roof above Ace fell on him. The snow pile melted in a burst of heat and steam, revealing a spluttering fire-user. Flame-colored eyes glowed menacingly as they glared heatedly at the ice-user.

“Why you…” Ace growled threateningly.

The Guardian’s laughter became a yelp as Ace turned Jack’s own tactic against him, a mini avalanche covering the Winter Spirit. Jack poked his head out of the mound of white and scowled at the Summer Spirit. A small heap of snow was piled on his head, making it look like he was wearing an elf’s hat made of white powder.

Ace smirked. “That was _also_ unintentional. I definitely didn’t melt part of the snow and make it fall on you. Nope.”

“I guess your control still sucks then.” Jack groused.

The expression on the fire-user’s face was too naïve and pitifully crestfallen to be genuine. “Indeed. How sad.”

Jack rose out of the snow pile, shaking off the remaining flakes and narrowly dodging a snowball from an overenthusiastic little girl. It struck a man passing behind him, knocking the poor soul off his feet.

The Winter Spirit sniggered and he complimented the girl. “Nice shot.”

The Guardian’s eyes caught sight of a familiar blue and white uniform in the masses and his cheerful attitude soured.

Memories, harsh and nightmarish, tried to force themselves to the forefront of his mind, but the Guardian pushed them away. Ace had also spotted the newcomers, and if his sudden discomfort and anger were of any indication he was as pleased to see them as Jack.

“I wonder what Marines are doing here.” The fire-user said, eyes clouded with painful memories.

Jack’s own blue orbs glinted with repressed disgust. “How about we find out?”

Ace floated down to the streets, hovering just above the ground. His presence almost melted the snow again but some extra concentration from the Winter Spirit kept a layer of white on the dirt. Ace landed gratefully, and the two Spirits left no footprints as they followed the Marines through the village, both noting when some of the villagers went out of their ways to avoid the lackeys of the World Government. One man practically vaulted over a fence in order to get out of their path.

“Is it just me, or do these civilians trust the Marines less than usual?” Jack mused aloud.

Ace cocked his head, reading the expressions of the townsfolk critically. “Perhaps. Most people are a bit wary of Marines by default, but I’ve only seen this amount of fear from places that have something to hide.” He frowned. “Or it could be that the World Government has grown stricter again, and these people are afraid that they’ll be arrested for something minor. The Celestial Dragons don’t tolerate _any_ pirates or criminals, no matter how small their crimes are. It’s even worse for people who didn’t actually do anything.”

“Okay, seriously. _Why_ haven’t people rebelled already?” Jack demanded, scowling.

He had always hated the World Government, Celestial Dragons, and most Marines in general ever since he found out Ace would be hunted down and killed simply because the Pirate King Gol D. Roger was his father, but that hatred had grown to utter loathing after Marineford.

Seeing Marines here only reminded Jack of Sabo’s death at the hands of a Celestial Dragon and Ace’s own demise at the hands of that bastard Akainu, and the more he looked at that Moon-forsaken uniform, the more difficult it was for the Guardian not to attack the Marines before they could hurt his believer again.

It did not help that their presence simultaneously reminded him that he had no right to attack humans, could not interfere with this world’s politics, and was unable to somehow kick the corrupt bigots out of office.

_I don’t think the Guardians would be able to function in this world like they can on Earth. Back there, there are pockets of tyranny to deal with, but here the_ entire world _is under the control of immoral zealots. Being immortal sucks when you can’t do anything about corruption and general human stupidity_ , Jack thought irritably.

High-pitched, joyous laughter snapped the Guardian out of his thoughts. Both he and Ace tensed as one of the playing children, trying to dodge a friend’s snowball, wandered into the Marines’ path. The little girl bounced off the leader’s— a Marine Captain’s?— leg, falling to the ground with a yelp. The child looked up, tears in her eyes, and fire burst to life around Ace’s hands the same time ice formed along Jack’s staff.

The Guardian realized what he was doing and gritted his teeth. “Stand down, Ace. We can’t attack him.”

The fireballs shrunk into nothingness but flames still rippled over the Summer Spirit’s tan skin. Before he could respond verbally, the Marine spoke.

“Watch where you’re going, brat!” the man snapped.

The girl’s lip trembled. “I’m s-sorry, mister.”

Cold eyes narrowed and both invisible Spirits tensed.

“You should have watched where you were going, girl.” The Marine growled menacingly. “I didn’t become a Captain to deal with impudent snot-nosed brats like you. You need to learn some respect!”

The Guardian recognized the sight of Armament Haki on the Marine’s hand even as he pulled his arm back, ready to strike. Just as Jack shouted a command to the Wind, Ace leapt in front of the girl, and the punch connected with his stomach. The Wind managed to push the girl out of the way as the Summer Spirit flew backwards with a pained cry, crashing into a building.

It immediately burst into flames, the wooden structure going up in seconds. The civilians and Marines shrieked and yelled in shock, more than one villager running off and screaming for someone to get buckets of water. Part of the house collapsed on Ace, hiding him from Jack’s sight.

Anger, quick and freezing, rushed through the Guardian, making him see red. He turned on the Marine Captain, frost snaking over his thin frame as the snowstorm reacted to his ire. The snow came down twice as fast, the soft flakes becoming icy and sharp, and hail the size of golf balls joined the flakes in their descent to the earth. The Marine winced in pain as they struck his exposed skin like a thousand freezing rocks and knives.

The Spirit of Winter’s blue eyes grew harder as he glared at the Marine. The blue orbs were icier than usual, lacking their normal glimmer of joy and fun.

He was furious at the mortal in front of him, fear and rage growing stronger as he registered that the man had _just struck his brother_. He had just _hurt_ Ace. Ace, who he had almost lost once, who was a selfless idiot whose first instinct was to jump in front of people to save them, who Jack was _not_ going to lose again to a damn lowlife like a Marine Captain.

A few people— Marines and civilians— cried out as the ice and snow stung their exposed skin, promising to give them frostbite and make their lives an icy hell for what they had done. The Marine Captain looked more like a snow man than a human being, ice and snow coating his clothes and hat. He bellowed at his men to move, cursing as the Wind blew into his face and almost knocked him down.

How _dare_ he—

“Jack.”

He distantly heard Ace’s winded voice and turned his head in time to see the fire-user stumble out of the wrecked building, hand pressed against his abdomen and slight pain on his face. He limped over to Jack, the snowstorm strong enough that flakes actually managed to land on and cover his hat. The fire-user shivered slightly, and looked unnerved by his body’s reaction.

“Apparently Armament Haki can hurt us.” Ace mentioned with a wince.

“But the guy didn’t even know you were there. He was aiming for that girl!” Jack snarled, stalking over to the Summer Spirit. “Let me see.”

He forcibly moved Ace’s hand, scowling darkly at the already visible bruise that marked his stomach. It was in the shape of a fist, which only added to the Spirit’s anger.

The storm grew thicker and even more violent, the Wind screeching and growling with a fury that rivalled Jack’s own. The few remaining people in the streets fled for shelter as nature attacked with an uncontrollable rage. Warm hands gripped Jack’s own, the left one wrapping around his wooden staff over his own.

“Jack, you need to calm down. You’re hurting the kids!” Ace said urgently.

The Guardian’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the streets once more, realizing that no, not everyone had run to safety. The little girl was huddled in a doorway with a few of the other children nearby, crying softly as the blizzard raged and screamed angrily and icy snow struck her skin.

Guilt opened up like a void in Jack’s chest and he closed his eyes, forcing the figurative storm of emotions within him back under control. The blizzard lightened to a manageable snow fall and the people slowly stepped out of hiding, hurrying to get to their actual destinations.

The unrelenting snow had managed to put out the building Ace had set alight, but when the Winter Spirit looked into his companion’s flame-colored eyes, he saw the guilt reflected back at him. At least the place had been empty.

“So much for me and my great control.” The Spirit said, trying to make light of the situation.

Ace forced a smile. “Yeah.”

His eyes darted towards the charred building and away rapidly, guilt clouding his features.

“We should probably get going.” Jack mentioned, unwilling to look closely at the damage they had caused.

Ace nodded silently and both Spirits took to the air. The Wind murmured quiet comfort and assurances to them both. Mostly to Jack, who clenched his teeth and soared onward without comment.

He had always had overprotective papa wolf tendencies when it came to people he cared about, but ever since he came to this world they had only gotten worse. And as much as Jack wanted to avoid introspection, he knew why.

Back on his world, Jack had the Guardians and his believers. He had people who loved him. People who could see him, cared about him, talked to him, could touch him without going through him…

But here, he only had Ace.

A few years as a Guardian could not erase three hundred years of loneliness and fear, and Jack honestly did not know if he could have endured with his sanity intact if he hadn’t had Ace to talk to in this world.

If Ace died again, not only would someone who was a brother in all but blood to Jack be gone forever, but the Winter Spirit would be completely isolated once more. Just like he had been for three hundred years, everyone he met would be unable to see him, everyone would walk through him, and he would be an invisible nobody without a purpose.

The Guardian gripped his staff tighter, ignoring the trickle of anxiety that trailed up his spine.

Pitch had been right. Even now, being alone was still Jack’s greatest fear. The only difference? Now he had something to lose.

Jack’s brooding thoughts were interrupted by Ace’s gasp.

“What the hell is _that_?!”

The Winter Spirit looked down, spotting a familiar dark shape against the snow. His arm was moving before his brain fully comprehended what he was looking at. Jack swung his staff, shooting a barrage of ice lances at the hated creature. The horse-like creature— the _Nightmare_ — evaded all of his attacks, shrieking once before diving into the shadows beside a tree.

“Manny curse it!” Jack exploded, landing hard on the ground and slamming his fist into said tree.

Snow fell heavily to the ground around him but he ignored it, the temperature around him decreasing rapidly. Ace landed beside him, fire around his hands and eyes alert as he scanned the area for the threat.

“Jack, what was that?” the Summer Spirit demanded. The Winter Spirit did not respond, and Ace placed a hand on his arm, wincing as the frigid cold touched his skin. “Jack?”

“It was a Nightmare.” Jack spat.

The implications of the shadowy creature’s presence began running through his mind, fear, anger, and concern whirling around his head too fast for him to settle on any of one of them.

“A ‘Nightmare’?” the fire-user questioned. Understanding dawned on his face and he paled. “You mean…”

“That’s right.” Jack spun to face Ace, blue eyes grim and a shaking pale hand clenched around his staff. “It was one of _his_ minions. Pitch Black is _here_.”

ROTGOPROTGOP

Pitch Black stood in the shadows, watching the ignorant humans walk by as they cheerfully went about their insignificant lives. The sunlight and chipper atmosphere of the town made him want to cringe, but he resisted the urge as he observed the people of the world he had ended up on. Pitch idly petted a Nightmare that had arrived not long before, bearing news that intrigued— and irritated— him greatly.

“So some of these humans have powers capable of destroying you, without knowing what you represent? I suppose since dreams and fears have such power here, courage would as well. Or perhaps it has to do with these ‘Devil Fruits’ I keep hearing about…”

The Nightmare King let his yellow eyes slide closed as he continued to mentally sift through the information his minions had gathered. “That boy— Luffy— is quite the conundrum. He was able to defeat one of you, and yet he has so much fear inside him… Oh yes, what _terrible_ nightmares he has.” Pitch chuckled lowly. “His fear will give me so much power.”

Another Nightmare emerged from the shadows beside him. It neighed impatiently and Pitch obligingly dismissed the first Nightmare, beginning to stroke the newcomer’s mane. The first Nightmare huffed unhappily and retreated through the shadows, leaving the two alone.

The new Nightmare shared its findings with its Master, who ceased in his petting much to its annoyance. The Nightmare King’s expression had lost its pleased air, eyes narrowing to angry yellow slits.

“Who would have thought you’d be here, Jack Frost.” Pitch murmured tonelessly, only his clenched left fist revealing his rage.

The Nightmare grumbled, butting his hand like an impatient pet, and he continued to pet its head.

“I had heard that Jack had been sent to another world, but I had no idea that it was this one.” Pitch murmured.

The Nightmare shared more of its memories, and the Boogieman’s scowl deepened.

“Another Spirit? Here? I wonder how that happened… Their presence matters little. That Spirit is probably only a low-tier sprite that got lost. No, Jack Frost is the most prominent threat.” A cold smirk made its way onto his face. “Not that he will be able to beat me alone. It _always_ takes more than one Guardian to defeat me, and poor Jack is all by himself here with no believers to assist him.”

Pitch pulled his hand away from the Nightmare’s mane, rejecting its hopeful neigh for more caresses. “Still, I believe a preemptive strike is in order. I will not give Jack the chance to interfere with my plans again. Find him and inform me of his location. This time I’ll deal with him myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird that out of all the things that happened from the first couple arcs of One Piece, the thing I remember most is the scene with Smoker and the little girl? In case it wasn’t clear, that’s what the scene with the girl and Marine Captain in this chapter was based on. Except Smoker was cool about it while this Marine was a jerk. T_T
> 
> I hope I did okay with North and Bunny’s way of speaking. I tried to look up how they talked in the movie and did some research, but I still feel like I’m doing it wrong. :(


	4. In the Dark of the Night

Six days.

The two Spirits had been searching for Pitch Black for six days nonstop. No breaks, no fun, no random side-adventures and trips. Just constant flying and hunting for the Nightmare King, without a single second being spent on the ground.

Add the three weeks that they had already been awake for beforehand and Ace felt like he was going to drop any second. Even Spirits needed sleep, and the fire-user was beginning to suspect he needed more than the normal Spirit as a way for his narcolepsy to continue to plague him even in his immortal life. Only piling onto his exhaustion was the fact that it was currently nighttime, when all the sane people were asleep in their beds.

If Jack's current mood were any indication, they would not be stopping to rest any time soon. Ace had never seen Jack so frantic or driven before, not even in the few times the Winter Spirit had tried to interfere in a perilous situation during the fire-user's mortal life. The Guardian had not smiled once since finding out the Nightmare King was in this world, and quite frankly his behavior was beginning to worry Ace.

The fire-user trailed behind the Winter Spirit as he urged the Wind to make him fly faster, swooping close to the ground as he scanned the shadows with his sharp blue gaze. If Ace looked closely enough, he swore that Jack had dark bags under his eyes. Apparently the Summer Spirit was not the only one who needed some shuteye once in a while.

With that in mind, the raven-haired fire-user halted in midair, his flames extinguishing as he landed on solid ground for the first time in nearly a week. Jack almost left him behind, not noticing Ace’s sudden descent. When he saw his companion was no longer following him, he swooped around, landing beside the Summer Spirit with his staff held offensively.

“What is it? Did you see something?” The Guardian demanded.

Ace shook his head. “No. Jack, we need to stop for a minute.”

The Winter Spirit’s teeth clenched audibly, making an unhealthy grinding noise. “I’m not _stopping_ until we find Pitch.”

“We can’t just fly around randomly and hope we run into him.” The fire-user said bluntly. “We’ve been trying that for a week and it hasn’t worked. We need a plan.”

“Like _you’ve_ ever used a plan before.” Jack snapped.

Ace pushed back the anger— and flames— that wanted to burst out of him. “I’m going to ignore that.” He said flatly before letting his expression soften. “Please, Jack. We’re not going to find Pitch like this.”

The fire-user blinked blearily and held back a yawn, an action noticed by Jack.

The Guardian of Fun scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re already _tired_? I hate to break it to you, but Summer lasts about three months at a time on Earth, maybe more. Good luck with your future duties if you can’t stay awake for a few days.”

Ace’s eyebrows crept upwards slowly. “Hello, Bunnymund. I must say, I never expected to meet you so soon. You look different than I was told. Just as moody though.”

Jack opened his mouth and paused, a mortified and sheepish expression rippling over his features. “Oh, Manny. I _have_ been acting like the Kangaroo on a bad day, haven’t I?” He seemed to droop, all antagonism melting from his body. “I’m sorry, Ace.”

“It’s fine.” Ace consoled him. “I can tell you’re stressed.”

Jack gave a harsh laugh. “That’s an understatement. You… You don’t really get it. Even with the stories I told you about Pitch, you don’t really understand what he can _do_.”

The Guardian drifted upward into the branches of a tree and landed, one leg dangling lazily in the air while the other was pulled to his chest. Ace perched beside him, strictly reminding himself not to catch the wooden limb on fire.

“I wasn’t there when Pitch was at the height of his power, during the time he destroyed the Golden Age. I did not find out the full extent of what he did until after I became a Guardian. But I know that without the Guardians to stop him, he can do a _lot_ of damage.” Jack sighed heavily. “Last time it was close. _Too_ close. If Jamie’s belief in the Guardians hadn’t been so strong, Pitch would have _won_.”

“What does Pitch plan to do if he wins?” Ace asked hesitantly. “He doesn’t seem like the type to want to rule people.”

Jack’s blue eyes clouded. “No wonder, no hope, no dreams, no memories. He wants there to be nothing but fear and darkness and _him_.” He spoke the last sentence as if quoting something that had been said to him.

A shiver went up Ace’s spine. “He’s going to hate me then. Fire, warmth, and light, am I right?”

He meant it as a joke, but Jack looked caught between feeling intrigued and disturbed by his statement. The fire-user continued before the ice-user could land on one reaction or the other.

“Is Pitch really such a threat? His Nightmares turned against him last time, didn’t they?” Ace asked, trying to recall everything that Jack had told him about the last war with the Boogieman.

“That was only because we were currently kicking his shadowy ass.” Jack admitted. “We had gotten past our fears and sort of got a happiness boost because Sandy came back, so the Nightmares attacked the only person left who was afraid. But… I’m worried it will be different here. I _know_ it will be different here. Back on Earth, only the belief of children can give us Spirits power, with Seasonal and Nature Spirits being the exceptions, of course. Here you believed in me even when you were an adult. If belief being more abstract like that is the norm here, that means that Pitch may be able to use the fears of everyone— not just kids— to get stronger.”

“But that’s just speculation.” Ace said hopefully.

“Hmm.” Jack mumbled disbelievingly with a shrug, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

The fire-user groaned. “Wonderful. That still doesn’t fully explain why you’re so stressed and insistent on finding him right now. I doubt Pitch will pop out of the shadows to destroy the world in a day.”

The Winter Spirit stayed quiet, twirling his staff in one hand. “…I’m the only Guardian here.” He said at last. “And I don’t think I can beat Pitch on my own. Every time I faced him by myself last time, he either played with me or beat me. And then there was that one time he used Baby Tooth as a hostage—” Pain flared across his face at the memory of what followed that little exchange. “—but other than that he pretty much swung me around like a chew toy and taunted me.”

Ace’s disliking of Pitch went up a few notches at the thought of the Nightmare King hurting Jack. He gave the Winter Spirit a friendly— but forceful— nudge, nearly knocking him out of the tree. “I think I might feel a little insulted. You’re not by yourself you know. I can help fight Pitch, too. I’ll have your back.”

The Guardian of Fun smiled for the first time in nearly a week. “That’s right. You know, you’re probably correct that Pitch is going to despise you. Fire will be really effective against shadows and black sand. I wonder if it will turn into glass…?” He pondered the question before his expression grew serious once more. “Just remember that Pitch’s real power isn’t really darkness or black sand. It’s _fear_. The moment he looks at you, he’ll know your greatest fear and will use it to manipulate you. He also likes to make his opponents angry, so try not to take the bait for once, okay?”

“I’ll try.” Ace said, though secretly he doubted that would happen.

His track record was not exactly the best when it came to ignoring enemies that insulted or threatened the people he cared about. Ace touched his chest where Akainu’s fist had impaled him and winced. Though maybe this time he would have the motivation to think more rationally while being goaded.

“We still need to find Pitch.” Jack said, pulling the fire-user out of his dark thoughts. “If we could just locate a Nightmare we could follow it to him.” The Spirit groaned. “That’s easier said than done. Every time I met Pitch, he either found me or wanted to be found.”

“Maybe he’s under a bed?” Ace suggested, only half-joking.

The Guardian nodded vaguely before sitting bolt upright. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that before?”

He flew off, the fire-user quickly leaping into the sky to follow him. The tree burst into flames behind them as Ace took to the air.

_Oops_ , he thought.

Ace caught up to Jack, following his snowflake-like flight pattern as they headed further inland.

“What did you figure out?” the fire-user asked.

“Even though adults may be able to give power Pitch here, he’ll still send Nightmares after children’s’ dreams to corrupt them and make more Nightmares.” Jack said, somehow managing to sound both happy for his revelation and disgusted by the implications. “It’s likely that we’ll run into a Nightmare if we stick around a large town.”

“Good plan, except I’m not about to let a Nightmare get near a kid.” Ace said, cracking flaming knuckles.

“Me either. Nightmares flee easily if they find themselves facing a strong opponent without Pitch there, so we should be able to scare it off and follow it.” Jack informed him. He paused, remembering an important fact about Pitch’s minions. "Use your flames to herd it to the sky and keep it from vanishing into the shadows. We'll have to make it take the long way to Pitch's lair."

The two Spirits headed to a rather large village surrounded by strange rock formations. Ace could not tell if they were natural or not, the stone too rough to be carved, but resembling objects too much to be natural. The town was already asleep, everyone who had one tucked safely in their beds with the exception of those without homes and those that were out drinking or partying.

Attracted to the sound of one party, Ace drifted towards an open bar, stepping through the door and watching with amusement as three men sang drunkenly while dancing on a table. The wooden structure gave out under their combined weight, sending all three crashing to the ground in an undignified heap. The Summer and Winter Spirits laughed alongside the humans that had observed the event, some patrons clapping enthusiastically for the tipsy dancers.

“Did I ever act that stupid when I was drunk?” Ace asked fondly, feeling oddly nostalgic.

“Nope. Mostly because you didn’t drink for pleasure until after you got the Mera Mera. And then you couldn’t get drunk because your powers burned away all the alcohol.” Jack teased.

“True, true. It’s a pity I couldn’t enjoy such simple things in life like embarrassing myself in front of crowds of people.” The fire-user sighed, smiling mischievously. His flame-colored eyes grew thoughtful. “Do you think I could now?”

Jack considered his question. “Possibly. You might run into the same problem because your body temperature still runs pretty high, but I know that North’s special eggnog has a kick. You should see what happens when the elves get ahold of it. Pure. Chaos.”

“Now that I _want_ to see.” Ace chuckled. “Shall we—”

“The Whitebeard Pirates are a bunch of weaklings, that’s what they are!”

The ex-pirate went very still, slowly turning to look at two men that were conversing near the fireplace. Jack put a hand on his arm in warning but Ace did not even look at him, momentarily forgetting that the humans could not see either one of them.

“What did you just say?” he growled to deaf ears.

“Careful what you say, mate.” One of the blissfully ignorant men told his comrade. “The Whitebeards are still a powerful lot. Sure, their Captain’s health declined after the Marineford War, but he’s still a Yonko.”

The first man snorted. “Some Yonko he is. I think Whitebeard’s actually dead and those idiots are just pretending he’s alive in order to try to scare people away from their territories. Why else would they keep losing islands to a bunch of new pirate crews? You heard what happened a couple years ago with Blackbeard, didn’t ya?”

“Yeah, yeah.” The second man sighed, rolling his eyes as if his companion was talking about old news. “The Payback War. The Whitebeard Pirates lost. Badly.”

“I’m telling ya, Whitebeard _must_ be dead.” The first man insisted, taking a swig of his whiskey. “How could his crew have lost otherwise?”

“Probably still injured.” The second man said optimistically. “He got stabbed a lot. Those wounds certainly didn’t kill him though. The Navy would have shouted the news to the world if one of the Yonko had fallen.”

“Whatever.” The first man said dismissively, swallowing another large gulp of his drink. “It’s a shame either way for such a ‘grand’ crew to fall so heavily—”

The fire beside them roared up to the ceiling, making both men scream and leap away from the sudden heat. Ace stormed forward, literally on fire, the flames on his skin unseen by all of the mortals around them.

“See here, you.” The fire-user shouted in the startled, ignorant man’s face, the fire in the fireplace illuminating his eyes. “Whitebeard and his crew are stronger and braver than you’ll ever be! You think a lowlife coward like yourself can insult the man who was my father? You—”

The man sprang to his feet, dashing away from the raging fire, and unintentionally though Ace. His flames went out like a blown candle, an icy cold feeling ripping through his chest as the man ran through him. The Summer Spirit gasped painfully and fell to his knees, clutching at his chest as his flame-colored eyes dulled like dying embers. A moment later and the coldness receded, leaving Ace trembling on the ground.

A cold hand— that was practically hot compared to the chill he had felt in his heart a moment ago— landed on Ace’s shoulder and Jack looked at him with sad blue eyes.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a while since you’ve been walked through, hasn’t it?” the Guardian said with empathy in his gaze.

He offered his hand. Ace was not prideful enough to shove the Winter Spirit away, instead accepting the assistance and standing unsteadily. A different icy ache was in his chest now and he stared at the wooden floor with unseeing eyes.

“Let’s go outside.” Jack said quietly, guiding the young Spirit along.

As soon as they made it to an abandoned alleyway, Ace fell to the ground once more, bringing his knees to his chest and clutching his hat with both hands.

“It was all my fault.” Ace choked. “If I hadn’t gone after Teach, Oyaji and the others wouldn’t have had to come rescue me. He wouldn’t have been wounded, and those new _pirates_ —” he could barely stand to call the greedy hounds that “—wouldn’t be taking all of Oyaji’s land. People wouldn’t call my brothers and father weak and…” He trailed off, guilt weighing heavy on his heart.

“You always have to blame yourself, don’t you?” Jack murmured as he sat beside Ace. “Listen. Something like this would have happened eventually, with or without you getting captured. People can’t stay in power forever, and the balance has to shift sometime.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that _I’m_ the reason for their fall.” Ace whispered. “Don’t try to deny it. They probably went after Blackbeard because of me.” _Because I was the idiot that went after Teach, got captured, and started the whole Marineford mess…_

“I doubt it was just because of you.” Jack said solemnly. “It was probably for Thatch as well, and also for revenge because of everything else Teach did to hurt your crew. Either way, it was their choice to take part in a ‘Payback War’. You had nothing to do with it. Besides, you should be happy about one thing. Your Oyaji survived. He and Marco and the others are still out there, alive.”

“…You’re right.” Ace breathed, managing to smile. “They’re _alive_.”

He had suspected that his Captain and the other Commanders had not fallen in the past three years simply because— as the one drunk had stated— the news would be shouted to the world, but it was nice to have confirmation that Whitebeard, Marco, Izo, and the others still lived.

“Of course I’m right.” Jack said with a flourish. “I’m always right.”

Ace gave him a look. “You’re not always right. Unless it turns out that Maelstrom Island _was_ north of us—”

“I swear that island moved. Besides, the extra ten days at sea were fun. We got to see some cool Sea Kings.”

“—And that you can, in fact, make popcorn out of regular corn while it was wrapped in the husk—”

“How was I supposed to know it would catch on fire? You were the Fire Logia, you should have done something!”

“—And then there was the time you swore that the Princess of Alabasta was actually a clone of her mother.”

“That was not my fault. Blame the people I overheard. They were the ones spreading rumors, not me!”

“—And how about when we were going to meet Shanks and you claimed you could ‘lighten the snowstorm’ and ‘totally make it go away’? You ended up making it worse and had to spend the entire time I was with Shanks trying to make sure the storm didn’t bury us all!”

“Okay, I might have been wrong that time,” Jack admitted grudgingly. “I should have known better than to fight against nature and try to hold it back. Still, it’s not like I missed anything important! Shanks wouldn’t have been able to see me anyway.”

His bottom lip jutted out childishly, revealing that he was still sore over the fact that he had missed out on seeing the red-haired Yonko. Ace chuckled, mood lightening, and shared a grin with the Guardian.

“I’m surprised, Jack. You managed to make a friend.”

The voice was silky, calm, and almost comforting, but sent shivers up Ace’s spine. The fire-user looked towards the source of the sound as besides him Jack leapt to his feet, staff raised.

“Pitch!” the Guardian spat, stepping defensively in front of Ace.

The fire-user got to his feet as a grey-skinned, black-clothed man stepped out of the shadows, a calm expression on his benign face as he separated from the darkness that had spawned him.

“Hello, Jack. I’ve heard that you and your companion have been looking for me.” Pitch said.

Sharp yellow eyes settled on Ace but he met them evenly, readiness burning away his confusion. The fire-user did not light himself but kept his powers right under the surface of his skin, ready to draw them out at a moment’s notice. The Nightmare King’s lips twitched.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your Spirit friend?”

Those yellow eyes seemed to pierce Ace, digging deep into his soul to see what secrets they could rip out of him. The Summer Spirit remained unintimidated.

“I already know who you are, Pitch Black.” Ace said tensely. “Nice to meet you.” He added with light sarcasm.

“Oh, Jack told you about me?” Pitch responded cordially. “I assure you, his tales of my misdeeds were greatly _understated_.”

“Good to know.” Ace said, unafraid.

“What do you want, Pitch?” Jack butted in, stepping in front of Ace again.

The fire-user did not protest, knowing they had to keep a united front in the presence of this enemy. Now was not the time for petty squabbles, and the fewer openings they gave Pitch the better. Ace was not the type to be careful by default, but something about the Boogieman put him on edge.

“You’re being very rude, Jack.” Pitch admonished him as if he were speaking to a child. “I’m just having a nice conversation with your new friend. Not all Spirits are my enemies, you know. You don’t have to drag him into the Guardians’ war. He could get hurt.”

He sounded genuine and friendly as he threatened the Summer Spirit. It creeped Ace out.

Jack’s grip on his staff grew so tight his knuckles turned bone-white. “You’re starting with outright threats? How unsubtle of you.”

Pitch raised his hands in a placating manner. “I’m not threatening him, Jack. I’m just giving him the opportunity to leave. I truly do not like to involve third parties in my business. Why do you think I didn’t call on other Spirits to assist me in our last battle?”

“Because they’re not homicidal maniacs like you.” The Guardian growled. “And you were busy trying to recruit me. Remember how well that worked out?”

Pitch did not respond to his jab. Instead he studied the Winter Spirit for a moment, as if Jack were a puzzle he was unable to solve. Yellow eyes widened and the Nightmare King grinned savagely, showing too many teeth for either Seasonal Spirit to be comfortable.

“I’m _impressed_ , Jack.” Pitch murmured deliciously. “Your greatest fear has changed. Fears evolve all the time, but to have your biggest one switch… That is quite the accomplishment.”

If possible, Jack grew tenser. Pitch’s eyes focused on Ace, and the fire-user was suddenly reminded of a time he had come face to face with a giant tiger while alone in his youth. The beast had the same hungry look in his glare that the Boogieman did now, as if Ace were nothing more than a snack he could not wait to devour.

“You really did your friend a disservice by doing that, Jack.” Pitch chided. “I’m afraid it turns out that he _is_ involved with our little war.”

Ace slid into a defensive stance, flames forming around his hands. “I was involved before you even knew I existed.”

Pitch’s eyes darkened as he saw the flames, anger, shock, and— was that sadness?— flitting over his face before he settled on a neutral expression. “I recognize that power. So Mother Nature finally chose a new Spirit of Summer. You’re a young one, too. I can tell by your lack of finesse.” He grinned predatorily. “I _killed_ the last Summer Spirit when he was less than a decade old. Do you want to help me break his record for shortest immortal lifespan?”

Like shadows rushing across the ground Pitch struck, filling Ace’s vision as a spear formed in his right hand. Ace leapt backwards, throwing a stream of fire at the Boogieman as Jack swung his staff, shooting Pitch with a bolt of ice. Both attacks went through the Nightmare King as he turned to smoke, sinking into the ground and reforming behind Ace.

The fire-user created two walls of flame around the Spirit of Fear, slamming them together, but Pitch evaded the flames, leaping at Ace as his weapon became a scythe. Ace ducked beneath the formidable weapon and kicked a leg out, fire blooming from his foot and hitting the Nightmare King in the ankles. Pitch yelped and stumbled, right into Jack’s ice barrage, a couple lances stabbing through his cloak.

Ace and Jack advanced but something dark caught the corner of the fire-user’s eyes and he ducked, barely avoiding a pounce from a Nightmare. He and the Guardian immediately went back-to-back as more Nightmares slunk out of the shadows, surrounding them.

“You didn’t think I came alone, did you Jack?” Pitch mocked.

“You really are a dirty coward, you know that Pitch?” was the Winter Spirit’s harsh response.

To both Seasonal Spirit’s surprise, Pitch did not take the bait and become enraged. “No. I’ve just learned from my mistakes.” His voice darkened. “Normally I’d be less direct and more manipulative, but let’s just say I’m feeling a little vengeful at the moment.”

The Nightmares closed in, snarling and screaming eerily. Ace could feel Jack’s cold back pressed against his. The creatures were in the alley, on the streets, on the rooftops. Even if the two Spirits did try to escape, they would not get far. Not that Ace was planning on running.

“I’ll take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right?” Ace asked, eying the horde of enemies warily.

He felt Jack flinch, but before he could ask what was wrong the Nightmares attacked. Ace took out a large chunk with a widespread fireball, as Jack froze and shattered some more with ice. A shrieking Nightmare jumped at the fire-user through the flames like a demon, but Ace deflected its lunge with a small superheated fire wall. The Nightmare turned to glass, hitting the ground so hard it shattered into shards.

The fire and ice-users followed up the attacks with a series of precision strikes, Jack hitting any Nightmares that came too close with his staff while Ace smashed them to bits with his fire and bare hands.

A loud shriek made both Spirits jump, and Jack looked up, face going pale. “Oh no…”

Ace followed his gaze, spotting new enemies among the Nightmares. They were black as night and vaguely human-like in shape, with odd, clawed hands and thin proportions that reminded the fire-user of starving corpses. They had no legs, floating in the air like ghosts, their bottom halves like tattered pieces of black cloth. Overall, they looked more terrifying, more disturbing, and more dangerous than the Nightmares ever could.

“Jack, what are those?” Ace asked urgently, glancing at the Winter Spirit.

“I’ve never seen one before, but I think I have an idea…” Jack said, trying to stay calm. “Those aren’t Nightmares. They’re _Fearlings_.”

“What’s the difference?” Ace asked warily.

The Winter Spirit swallowed. “Short version? Nightmares are corrupted dreams. Fearlings are corrupted _souls_.”

Ace blanched. “Oh.”

The Fearlings _screamed_ , the sound eerily human, and both Spirits had to resist the urge to clap their hands over their ears. Jack threw bolts of ice at them, the ones that struck expanding rapidly and freezing the Fearlings in place. The Wind quickly crashed into the paralyzed creatures, shattering them into pieces.

Ace released a large plume of flames, letting it split apart into seven separate streams. Pitch’s minions attempted to dodge the fire, only for the flames to follow them through the air until they struck, turning the creatures into ash.

Instinct made the two Spirits look up. They dove away from each other as a Fearling and three Nightmares jumped at them from above. Ace ducked under the Fearling’s swipe while Jack faced off against the three Nightmares. The Summer Spirit backed away to give himself more range, forced to dodge again as the Fearling doggedly chased him, floating through the air.

Ace sidestepped another clawed strike, raising a flaming hand and letting the fire within it explode an inch from the Fearling’s head, covering it completely. Needless to say, it was gone when the flames went out.

The fire-user spotted Jack smacking a Nightmare with his staff and stepped forward to assist him, only for everything to go black. Ace stumbled in disorientation, briefly falling into nothingness, and instinctively sent out a burst of fire from his entire body. The darkness wavered and the silent town returned with him lying on his back in the street. Ace leapt to his feet and thought he heard a curse.

“I must applaud you,” Pitch said as he emerged from the shadows. His voice held a slight wheeze, and he rubbed his left wrist with his other hand. “You have an impressive reaction time.”

Ace slid into an offensive stance, flame-colored eyes scouring the area for Jack. He was still in the same town but a different street, and the Guardian of Fun and the Nightmares were nowhere in sight.

_Was Pitch taking me away to kill me or use me as a hostage?_ He wondered.

The fire-user felt a chill as he considered how far Pitch could have dragged him or what the evil Spirit could have done if Ace had not gotten out of the darkness so fast. He quickly banished that fear, focusing on his foe.

_It doesn’t matter. I won’t be captured again._ “You underestimated me. Don’t think I’m easy prey, Boogieman.” He warned coldly. “I don’t need Jack with me to kick your ass.”

Pitch smirked. “Such arrogance. Do you truly believe that a rookie Spirit such as yourself stands a chance against me?”

“Last time you were defeated by a group of children so I think I might be okay.” Ace sneered defiantly.

Anger darkened Pitch’s face and he lunged, a scythe forming in his hands. Ace raised his own arms defensively, a shield-like firewall forming in front of them, and was pushed backwards from the force as the scythe struck the protective flames. The Summer Spirit skidded to a halt a few feet back, letting the shield fade.

_I can block his attacks with fire. Good to know._

Pitch kept up his assault, scythe shifting into a spear. He stabbed at Ace, who dodged— _Not a Logia anymore. Strikes like this will hit. **Don’t** forget_ — and counterattacked with five fire lances. The Boogieman evaded each one, cloak flicking out of the way just in time to avoid being pinned.

Ace leapt at Pitch, fire forming in his hands like daggers, and struck at the Nightmare King, who backed up rapidly, blocking the flames with his spears. The fire-user put more energy into the flames, letting the daggers expand in length, and one stabbed Pitch’s right arm. The Spirit of Fear gave a pained shout and swung his weapon haphazardly, slicing Ace’s side.

Both combatants retreated slightly to clasp their wounds. When Pitch pulled his hand away, he had a small burn on his forearm, the skin blackened. When Ace did, he noticed an odd black grit in the wound. He was also bleeding. He did not know Spirits could bleed. The fire-user ignored the pain— and worry about what the hell Pitch had gotten him with— and lunged at the Nightmare King, fire forming around his fist.

“Hiken!” he shouted out of habit, and watched with satisfaction as his flames managed to clip Pitch’s side, sending him sprawling.

Ace stepped forward to continue the attack and faltered, tiredness gripping at his limbs. It almost reminded him of what he felt before a narcolepsy attack, but instead of warmth this pulling feeling felt cold. As Ace swayed, the Boogieman stumbled to his feet, breathing heavily. His eyes were wide with delight.

“Of course. _Portgas D. Ace_.” Pitch breathed. “I recognize you now.”

“My name is Hiken D. Ace.” The fire-user said without missing a beat.

He threw a couple thin lines of fire at the Boogieman— ignoring the draining feeling the action caused— holding the ends as they arced through the air like whips. Pitch dodged his attempt to strike him, dancing out of Ace’s range.

“It is truly an honor to meet you. I mean it.” Pitch said, hands clasped in front of his chest. “I must say, your brother’s nightmares are a sight to behold.”

Horror washed over Ace like a bucket of ice water down his back. It was quickly replaced by anger. He threw a large stream of fire at Pitch, but his foe sank into the shadows. Ace turned around in a circle, wary and alert as he waited for the Nightmare King to emerge once more.

“ _So much fear. So much doubt. So much pain. All because he could not save his dear big brother._ ”

Pitch’s voice echoed around Ace, making him unable to pinpoint him. The Spirit of Fear laughed hauntingly, shadows in his shape all along the walls around the fire-user.

“Stay away from Luffy!” Ace snarled threateningly.

Pitch ignored him, still cackling in a low, mocking way. “But I’m hardly doing anything. I assure you, his nightmares are more memories than visions. Although I will admit that I’ve added a few things every now and then to spice things up a bit and add some variety.”

Helplessness and anger melded together, filling Ace’s body with an almost physical pressure.

“Leave my little brother _alone_!” Ace bellowed.

He exploded into flames, the orange fire covering his entire body and blasting outwards. The inferno struck a startled Pitch with the force of a speeding train, sending the Nightmare King through a wall. Ace was honestly surprised that no one had come running to— or away from— the chaos yet. Were these people heavy sleepers or what?

_Or maybe Pitch has something to do with it…_ Ace mused morbidly, but pushed the thought away.

When Pitch stumbled out of the wreckage he found himself surrounded by tiny green balls of light. The fire-user detonated the Hotarubi, watching with satisfaction as they blew up in the Nightmare King’s face.

Ace stepped forward, readying a follow up attack, only for the coldness to pull at him again. His flames went out a few mere inches from his body and his knees almost buckled but he caught himself at the last second, shaking his head to clear it. He heard Pitch laugh.

“I see Jack didn’t tell you about _all_ of my abilities. Then again, even he might not realize the full extent of what I can do. He wasn’t there when I was at full power. My sand does more than create Nightmares. You won’t be able to experience its full capabilities because of your… ‘ _Mother_ ’, but I’m pleased to inform you that you’ll feel enough. Like the Dream Sand it was based on, my sand can make people tired and fall asleep.” Pitch explained casually. “But instead of dreams… you’ll fall into nightmares filled with your worst fears.”

Ace’s vision blurred and he blinked rapidly. After a moment of crushing darkness he opened his eyes to find Pitch right in front of him, fist pulled back. The Nightmare King’s punch slammed into Ace’s stomach. The fire-user flew back as his hat flew off his head, overcome by a terrible sense of déjà vu. His back hit a stone wall, forcing the air from his lungs, and he landed on the ground with a thud.

_Get up_ , his mind urged as he laid there and groaned, vision swimming. _Get up! I can’t let Teach beat me!_

Teach? No, he wasn’t fighting Teach. He was fighting—

Pitch grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, lifting him up easily with a strength that he did not look like he should possess. His spear changed shape, turning into a sword. Ace tried to struggle but his wound _burned_ and he let loose a scream of pain.

“Ace!” He heard Jack shout.

Ace looked up and saw the Winter Spirit diving towards the two, staff held threateningly. Pitch spun him around and pressed his newly-formed blade to the fire-user’s back in warning, exactly where Akainu had punched through him.

Jack froze in place, horror in his expression, not daring to come closer. Ace could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but refused to let fear take hold of him any further. It was only through sheer force of will that he kept the memories of his death at bay. He couldn’t panic now. He had to stay strong.

“Shall I kill him, Jack?” Pitch asked, caressing Ace’s cheek with a cold grey hand. “He’s all you have here. Lose him, and you’ll be all alone again.”

Standing stock still, Ace desperately tried to call the tiniest flame to the surface, but could not gather the energy to even bring heat to his skin. He could feel the icy _burning_ from his wound spreading up his side, as if a clawed hand was ripping through his insides. The sword of black sand or shadows or whatever it was made of was frigid against his back, as if someone had crafted a blade out of the coldest ice and put it there.

“Don’t touch him!” Jack snapped, staff pointed directly at Pitch’s face.

He made no move to strike. All three Spirits knew that the Guardian would not attack, not when the Boogieman had Ace in his clutches. Pitch seemed to be enjoying Jack’s powerlessness, baring his teeth in a grin.

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t run him through right now.” The Nightmare King said to his foe, hand gripping Ace’s left arm tightly. “One. Reason.”

Jack scanned Ace’s face, searching for an answer with unadulterated anguish in his eyes. The fire-user stared back, putting on the encouraging expression he used whenever Luffy was upset. He wanted to tell the Guardian to fight or run, but knew saying such things would be useless. Jack would have to be knocked out or incapacitated before he would abandon Ace, especially when he was in the hands of an enemy.

_How are we going to get out of this?_ Ace thought, trying not to despair.

His fire powers were not working, and he could not get out of Pitch’s grasp without being stabbed. Maybe if he made some type of distraction—

“He’s practically Emily Jane’s kid.” Jack blurted.

Ace felt the blade stab slightly into his skin. He bit back a pained grunt, feeling blood trail down his back. The hand holding him in place was shaking in anger.

“ _Don’t you dare speak her name!_ ” Pitch spat, fury coloring his every tone. “You think that I care for Mother Nature’s children? Hah! I already told you that I murdered the previous Spirit of Summer. Plus, using that line of logic that would make you her child as well. Do you honestly think that being a Seasonal Spirit would stop me from doing _this_?”

Ace felt the tip of the blade twist deeper into his back. Despite his best effort he let loose a distressed cry, his breathing quickening. Suddenly he could not tell if it was metal or a burning fist against his back, reality and memories blurring together. Was it Jack or Luffy in front of him, their eyes wide with fear as they stood helplessly before their enemy?

Through the haze, Ace vaguely became aware of the black creatures creeping closer— Nightmares. He was with Jack and Pitch in a little town. Not at Marineford. _Not at Marineford_.— and pushed his memories away, clinging to every ounce of courage he could muster.

He was a brother, an ex-pirate, a Summer Spirit, a damn ‘D’. He would not let this overdramatic bed-haunter frighten him. Ace calmed himself, moving past his fear. There was a way out of this. They would both be okay.

If his frown was any indication, Pitch noticed his feat. The expression vanished before Jack could notice the Nightmare King’s annoyance as well.

“Don’t worry, Jack. I won’t reenact his first death. What would be the fun in that?”

Pitch’s hold on him shifted and Ace found himself pressed securely to the Nightmare King’s chest, one grey arm holding both of his to his sides. The sword lifted to Ace’s throat, caressing it almost gently. The fire-user swallowed, wincing when the action caused the blade to nick his skin. He felt a bead of blood drip down his neck.

Of all things he could be thinking about in this moment, all Ace could process was that he could feel the Nightmare King’s heart beating against his back. For some reason he had thought Pitch was heartless— _ha ha_ — but apparently that wasn’t true. Physically speaking, that is.

Ace’s thoughts about the physiology of Spirits were interrupted when the sword dug just a bit deeper into his throat. He could not stop the pained grunt that escaped his lips as the blade sliced into his skin, and wished more than anything that he had managed to keep silent when Jack’s eyes dulled with terror.

“Don’t.” Jack _begged_. “Please don’t. Ace had nothing to do with your defeat. I was the one who beat you. Hurt me instead. Take your revenge on _me_.”

He sounded like he wanted to be angry but could not quite manage it, a hint of a sob in his tone. Ace’s heart twisted with sadness and guilt that he was causing his brother such pain. That did not mean he was going to stay quiet about his words though.

“No. Don’t even _think_ about giving yourself up, or a trade.” Ace said harshly. “He’ll kill me anyway, you idiot! You told me about what he did with Baby Too— _Ah!_ ”

The fire-user grunted as Pitch’s free hand reached up, pulling his head back by his hair.

“That’s enough from you.” The Nightmare King said steadily. “However, you are correct. I _will_ kill you. But I think I’ll let my Fearlings and Nightmares play with my good friend Jack a bit first, hmm?”

The Nightmares crept closer, the Fearlings floating in the air, and the Guardian tensed, eyes darting around. For a second, Ace thought that Jack was going to give in, but then their eyes met and the fear in the Winter Spirit’s gaze was replaced by determination.

The first Nightmare pounced and the Guardian knocked it away. Jack spun, shooting ice from his staff like it were a rifle, hitting each enemy that came close.

“Oh look. He got a second wind. How cute.” Pitch seemed more amused by his resistance than angry, certain he would be victorious.

Ace growled low in his throat but said nothing, using the time to silently search for a way to get free of the Nightmare King’s hold. His limbs felt like cold lead, the warmth of fire just a distant memory, and as the Summer Spirit peered dully at his injured side, he noticed the blackness that creeping through his tan skin like black veins.

At least Jack was too busy to notice.

The Guardian continued to beat back the Boogieman’s minions, icing them, shattering them, even stabbing a few with his staff, and Pitch’s patience faded.

“That’s enough playing.” He said coldly. “Now _kill him_.”

The Nightmares and Fearlings were eager to obey, all leaping for the Guardian at once. Jack gave an enraged cry, staff sweeping sideways as he froze the closest creatures of Fear solid, unintentionally creating a wall of ice and black sand between him and the rest of his enemies.

It was then that his extended period of wakefulness and stress decided it was time for his body to shut down. Ace could only watch as Jack abruptly collapsed, staff still held in his hand as he slumped to the ground.

Pitch gave a startled laugh, finding the situation to be extremely hilarious. “That’s it? _That’s_ what knocks him out? A lack of sleep? How ironic!” He smirked maliciously. “I wanted him to be conscious, but beggars can’t be choosers I suppose. At least _you_ get to see him die.”

The Nightmares and Fearlings closed in on the unconscious Guardian, the Wind rushing around the fallen Winter Spirit in an attempt to keep his enemies away. It was doing a good job for the moment, but Ace knew one of them would get past its defenses eventually.

And Jack would die.

Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was the pure need to protect.

Ace did not know what caused the familiar, commanding _force_ to rise within him like a storm, but he recognized what he felt. It was the same power he had used to save Luffy from Bluejam so many years ago, the same power he had never bothered to learn to control— had never acknowledged— because it was associated with his father.

Ace could not care less about using the same power as Roger now, so he let the torrent free.

The Nightmares and Fearlings crumpled— not into piles of sand— but like normal creatures would when struck unconscious. Even Pitch went down, not knocked out, but winded. A second later he rose, a scythe forming in his hand, but Ace used the remainder of his strength to tackle the Nightmare King. The fire-user grappled with him, knocking away the scythe and keeping Pitch away from Jack.

_I just used Conquerer’s Haki,_ he thought distantly, but focused on more important matters.

“Wind, get Jack out of here!” Ace shouted, still struggling with Pitch.

He could practically feel its reluctance.

The Nightmare King seemed to remember that he had powers of his own and summoned another spear, slashing at the fire-user. Ace grabbed Pitch’s hand, barely able to keep the spearhead away from his body. He was weakening quickly, the strain of using Conqueror’s Haki on top of his possibly poisonous wound and earlier exhaustion making it hard to remain coherent.

“ _Now_ , Wind!” Ace commanded.

The Wind dove down, knocking away a few lingering Nightmares and dragging Jack’s limp form into the sky. The fire-user smiled as he watched Wind carry Jack away to safety, too fast for the Nightmares to give chase. As soon as his friend was out of sight, Ace felt the tiredness grip his body in its angry claws, his muscles going slack as his remaining strength left him.

The blunt end of Pitch’s spear hit him in the face. Ace stumbled and fell to his knees, breathing heavily. Instantly the spear was at his throat, hovering millimeters from his skin. Ace met Pitch’s enraged gaze steadily, still smiling in relief. Jack was safe. He would be upset that the fire-user sacrificed himself for him, but the Guardian of Fun would live.

“What was that power?” Pitch asked dangerously.

“None of your business.” Ace replied calmly.

He had no reason to answer the Nightmare King. The less information he revealed— either unwillingly or through gloating Ace may very well deserve at this point— the more surprises others would have for Pitch when they fought him. Ace briefly wondered what would happen if Luffy battled Pitch, and his smile grew bigger.

_Luffy would beat him of course._

The spear pricked his neck, drawing a bead of blood, ready to slice open his throat.

“You are in a very bad position, Ace.” Pitch said conversationally but with a snarl in his voice. “You interfered with my revenge. You’ve been infected by my Nightmare sand. You helped my enemy _get away_.”

The blade dug deeper. Ace refused to tremble or shut his eyes.

_I’m going to die here_ , he thought calmly. _I’m going to die to save someone I love again. That’s okay._

Surprisingly, he was not afraid to die, even after his gory demise at the hands of Akainu. He never had feared death itself. Especially not when it was his choice to die in the place of another, so that the other person could live.

In this moment, there was no fear or regret or sorrow in his heart.

All he felt was acceptance.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Ace stated.

Pitch’s expression twisted. “I know. But you fear _for_ _them_.”

The fire-user felt a flicker of something but was too calm— detached, serene, tired?— to truly react to his words.

“Maybe. But I know they’ll beat you.” He said simply. “Luffy, Jack, whoever they might be… They’ll defeat you. Threatening them won’t make me afraid. You’re nothing more than a pathetic shadow of a man, and they’ll demolish you.”

The only one who his death would affect would be Jack. Everyone else already thought Ace was dead, so dying here would not cause them to grieve for him again. The fire-user felt a little guilty for leaving Jack alone and failing to live long enough to meet the Guardians, but he would rather die here than have his friend perish in his place.

The Nightmare King was silent, studying Ace with intense yellow eyes. “I see.” He murmured. “Even after your mortal death, you are unafraid of it. But you are still afraid of _life_. You do not fear others failing you. You fear failing them.”

He lifted the spear away but Ace could not summon the energy needed to attempt to fight him. His body would not move, the black veins surrounding his side wound creeping towards his navel now. He briefly wondered if the marks surrounded the cuts on his throat were expanding too, but did not glance down to see. Pitch eyed the marks studiously, like a scientist looking over an intriguing new experiment.

“Normally, infecting a person with my sand would cause them to become a Fearling or be assimilated—” _Like Sandman_ , Ace’s mind supplied. “—But Seasonal Spirits such as yourself are immune to such transformations. Em— … _Mother Nature_ made certain of that. Instead, you’ll slowly sink into nightmares, unable to tell dreams from reality as your every hope and dream is stripped away…”

Pitch trailed off, considering the possibilities, and a slow smile stretched across his face. “Killing you now would be a waste. You need to be made into an example.”

Blackness crept into Ace’s vision, expanding slowly, and finally the fire-user felt fear slip into his mind as realization forced its way past the numbness and took hold.

_I’m not going to die. I’m going to be captured again._

He shivered, specks of terror gripping his heart as history repeated itself and he was swallowed by darkness. The last thing Ace heard was Pitch’s smooth voice.

“Besides, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Jack is quite easily manipulated when I have a hostage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title (In the Dark of the Night) is the name of a song from Anastasia. Have you ever heard the cover by Jonathan Young? If not, you should check it out. It’s on Youtube and its awesome!
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think.


	5. For Them

Jack snapped awake in midair, the ground above his head and the sky beneath his feet. The Winter Spirit yelped and righted himself with an undignified flail, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to get rid of his disorientation. Memories returned like a slap to the face and he struggled against the Wind’s insistent pull as it dragged him through the heavens.

“Ace!” he shouted, looking around wildly for the Summer Spirit. “Where are you?!”

His frantic gaze found nothing but a clear blue sky, with Ace nowhere in sight. Dread settled like a stone in Jack’s chest. The last thing he remembered before falling unconscious was the fire-user in Pitch’s clutches. But surely he had escaped too somehow, right? The Guardian would never abandon Ace.

So where was he?

As he felt the air continue to rush past him, the Winter Spirit felt a glimmer of hope. The Wind would know what happened after Jack was knocked out. He vaguely recalled feeling a pulse of power after he had fallen, a wave so strong it had reached him even in unconsciousness. Had that been Ace? If so, he must have gotten away from Pitch, right? That meant Ace must have told the Wind to take Jack to safety, maybe providing a distraction for a bit until they got away. That was good. Wind would be able to tell him what happened to the fire-user, and they would be able to meet up.

“Wind, where’s Ace?” Jack demanded.

The Wind kept carrying him along in silence, ignoring his question.

“Did he tell you to take me somewhere to wait for him? That idiot didn’t try to face Pitch alone did he?” the Guardian asked worriedly.

The Wind said nothing.

“Wind, come on.” Jack said, patience waning. “Why won’t you just tell me where Ace is?”

The Wind miserably whispered an answer in his ear, and the Guardian’s naïve assumptions were ruthlessly crushed. Because Ace had not escaped Pitch. He had not flown away and was waiting somewhere for Jack to regroup with him. He was not free and laughing, floating in the sky as he anticipated teasing Jack for his unwarranted concern.

The last the Wind had seen of his brother, Pitch had been putting a spear to Ace’s throat.

Jack listened to its halting explanation, a distant part of his mind speculating if he could actually hear sorrow in the Wind’s ‘voice’. The rest of him was slowly detaching itself from his body, mind going cloudy as literal clouds darkened the sky overhead. The Winter Spirit ignored the snow that began falling around him, lost in his turmoil, unable to believe what he had just heard.

_Ace stayed behind to distract Pitch so I could get away,_ Jack thought numbly. _He was injured. He could barely fight, had no firepower, and couldn’t fly. He wouldn’t be able to escape Pitch, let alone fight him. He’s probably— He’s probably—_

Jack could not even think the word. He could not think about how, after everything they had gone through and everything that had happened, Ace was most likely—

Instead he focused on anger.

“You _left_ him?!” Jack shouted.

The Wind faltered, almost dropping the Guardian, but kept carrying him along. They were over a winter island— or at least it was one now— Jack noted faintly, but the Guardian quickly refocused on more important things.

“How could you _leave him like that?_ ” he snapped at the Wind.

It started to defend itself but Jack cut it off.

“No, don’t give me that! We both know Ace is a self-sacrificing idiot. Of course he’d tell you to go without him. That doesn’t mean you could abandon him! You could have picked him up too. You could have blown Pitch away from him. But you didn’t! Instead you just left him to di—”

The Wind gave what could only be described as a heartbroken wail. Jack yelped as he was dumped unceremoniously on the snowy ground, skidding a few feet and landing face first in the slush. The Wind blew past him, rustling his hair and clothes…

And then the Winter Spirit was alone.

“Wind?” Jack asked in a small voice.

He pushed himself up onto his knees and elbow and scanned the air frantically. It took a moment for the Guardian to realize the Wind had indeed left him, the silent stillness in the air only adding to the sense of abandonment that struck him like a physical blow. Jack bit his lips, fearing his companion for more than three hundred had finally had enough and deserted him.

“I didn’t mean it.” Jack croaked. “I didn’t… Wind, I’m sorry! Come back!” _Please don’t leave me alone._

There was no stirring of air or comforting whispers in his ear. Only stillness and silence. The Spirit of Winter let loose a sob, shifting so he was sitting upright on his legs in the thickening snow.

“Good job, Jack.” He whispered. “You made the last entity that cares about you in this world desert you.”

He slowly got to his feet, staring blankly at the endless sea of white around him, the heavy snowflakes barely fluttering as they made their way to the ground. Any wind that was here with him was soulless, mindless, not like the Wind that had been his companion for so long. The companion that could not take his self-righteous anger anymore and left him.

Jack looked down at his bare feet, shame rushing through him as tears pricked at his eyes. _I’m so sorry…_

An invisible force ruffled his hair and Jack’s breath hitched. He leapt into the air, grabbing at the Wind as it danced around him. If Wind had a physical form, the Spirit would be hugging it right now. As it were, he clung to seemingly nothing, but in reality that empty space held a life, a consciousness, a _friend_.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jack rambled. “I wasn’t saying— I didn’t mean— I’m not angry at you. I— I—”

The Wind drifted in front of the Guardian, and Jack’s blubbering apologies ceased as he noticed it was carrying something. Without a sound, the Wind dropped its offering into his palm. The Winter Spirit stared at the familiar orange cowboy hat, reaching up to trace the blue smiley and frown-faced buttons. His pale hand shook and his breath shuddered as he tried not to cry.

“Did you see—?” he began, but cut himself off.

If Pitch did murder Ace, the Summer Spirit might not have left behind a body. Sandy hadn’t, but then again the Guardian of Dreams had been assimilated into Pitch’s sand, not killed.

The Wind whispered in Jack’s ear, telling him it was sure the fire-child was alive, because if he was not, the shadow-evil-fear man would surely have made sure the ice-child had known his comrade was gone.

The Winter Spirit exhaled slowly, gazing at the hat he held. “You’re right. Pitch wouldn’t go through all that trouble just to kill him when I’m not there to see it. Which means either Ace escaped and is alone out there, or… or Pitch has him.”

Jack felt ill at the thought, his stomach churning and twisting uncomfortably. He knew what Pitch was capable of and knew that the Nightmare King was sadistic, manipulative, and cruel to those he despised. If he really did have Ace…

His grip tightened on the hat. “I guess there’s only one thing we can do then.”

Blinking tears out of his eyes, Jack put the string over his head, letting the orange cowboy hat lay on his back. It settled just below the hood of his sweatshirt, with just enough added weight to remind him it was there. To remind him of what he had lost.

“Let’s find him, Wind.” Jack said, and let it carry him into the sky.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace was drowning.

He flailed and struggled in the darkness, but it surrounded him, choked him, seeped into his skin and left him with nothing but cold isolation for company. Ace tried to find a way out of the void, but any time it seemed like he made progress the darkness grabbed him tighter, squeezing him like a toy it wanted to snap in half.

It was empty yet had a presence, emotionless yet malevolent. Were there creatures in the darkness, or did they only exist in his panicking mind? Ace could not see them, but could feel them, silent, mocking giggles echoing through the nothingness as he was tormented.

The fire-user found himself wishing he was wearing a shirt, just so he had some illusion of protection from the claws that tore at his skin, invisible blades raking along his arms and torso. Tiny knives dug into his flesh, cutting deep without drawing blood, the darkness mutely laughing as it— they?— pulled at his hair and limbs.

He may have screamed, but Ace could not hear his own cries, thrashing violently as he tried to fight off the enemy-enemies that surrounded him but were invisible to his eyes.

The darkness wrapped around his throat in a gentle embrace and slowly tightened its grip, cutting off his air and strangling him.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t—

Ace snapped awake, pulling in desperate gasps of air. He opened his eyes to darkness, but it wasn’t _that_ darkness, wasn’t an endless void filled with unseen creatures that wanted him dead. Every part of him ached, and he felt chilled, as if he had been dunked in ice water before being thrown out into a winter storm. The fire-user tried to put a hand to his pounding head but found he could not, gradually becoming aware of the metal bands around his wrists.

He blinked, squinting in an attempt to see in the darkness, and his heart froze. Ace was in a prison cell. A familiar, dark, cold cell.

_No no no no nononononono._

Ace’s breathing quickened. It has all been a dream. Marineford, his temporary rescue, his death, those three years with Jack… none of it had been real. He was still in Impel Down, left to rot alone until everyone forgot about him or he was executed for Gol D. Roger’s crimes. Despite himself, Ace let out a sound that may have been a sob.

The fire-user heard someone chuckling.

“How glorious. If I’d known you were going to react like this, I would’ve woken you earlier.” A silky voice said.

Pitch stepped out of the shadows, walking casually up to the bars of Ace’s prison with a mocking smirk on his face. The Summer Spirit’s fear vanished as memories returned and he glared silently at the Nightmare King.

“Do you like the décor?” Pitch asked. “I thought you’d appreciate the familiarity.”

Ace tried to summon his flames to attack the Nightmare King, only to feel a cold emptiness where his fire once resided. He shivered, the chilly dungeon feeling even more frigid than before, and reluctantly gave up on summoning his fire as the iciness— and pain that accompanied it— grew stronger.

_These chains aren’t seastone so how— Wait, I’m a Spirit. Seastone doesn’t affect me anyway._ Ace thought. _Which means something else is preventing me from using my powers..._

The fire-user felt as if he were forgetting something important, but dismissed the thought in favor of giving Pitch a death-glare.

“Go suck an egg.” Ace spat.

 “Now, now.” The Spirit of Fear chided. “There’s no need to be rude.”

Ace could not think of an insult vile enough to describe Pitch, so he merely glowered. He shifted his legs, pulling at the chains that were cuffed around his ankles, before settling in a cross-legged position. His back was straight and his gaze unwavering as he stared down the Nightmare King, calmer now that he knew he was not trapped in the hell-hole known as Impel Down.

“What do you want, Pitch?” he asked coldly. “Here to gloat?”

“Oh no.” the Boogieman said, waving his hands idly in front of him. “I’d just like to explain some things to you, if you don’t mind.”

“Be my guest.” Ace snarled sarcastically. “Go on. Explain your evil plan to me.”

Pitch disregarded his snappish tone, more amused by it than anything. “This has to do with your… future, so I suggest listening to what I have to say. Do you remember why I kept you alive, Summer Spirit?”

Ace kept his expression blank. “Yeah. So I can be a good little hostage. You know, I’m really sick of people using me to try to hurt my family. It’s getting old fast.”

“I can see that.” Pitch said soothingly, as if the fire-user were an old friend who was venting to him about frustrating happenstances in his life. “But I’m afraid you’re more than just a hostage.”

A grey hand gestured at Ace’s body, and despite himself the fire-user looked down. His breath caught. The black markings that had surrounded his side wound were now past his navel, stretching towards his other hip like an intricate, unwanted tattoo. If Ace looked at the black lines too long, they seemed to shift beneath his skin, making him queasy.

“Do you like them?” Pitch asked. “I decided to focus on that injury instead of the cuts on your throat. There is more of my sand in there. Do you want to know what it’s doing?”

“You said it normally turns people into Fearlings when it gets in their bodies, but Seasonal Spirits are immune.” Ace remembered, surprisingly calm for someone who had what was pretty much soul-corrupting poison in their veins.

“Immune to the transformation, yes.” The Nightmare King admitted. “But not the nightmares. Unlike when the victim is given a topical dusting of my black sand, the effects of it will last as long as it is in your bloodstream. Every time you dare to rest, your dreams will be plagued by your worst fears.”

Pitch stepped forward, appearing in the cell and smirking down at Ace.

“As time passes, the visions will become more and more real, until you can no longer tell the difference between fiction and reality.” He continued sadistically. “You’ll slowly sink into madness, your mind snapping because of all the horrors you have seen. Your hope, your dreams, your wonder, your memories, your joy… all of them will abandon you, until nothing remains but a shattered, agonized soul and a body that’s little more than a corpse.”

Pitch sounded gleeful as he described the fate he had planned for the Summer Spirit. Ace remained unintimidated even as he became more and more aware of the creeping cold feeling that was settled in his bones.

“That won’t happen.” Ace stated. “I’ll fight whatever you throw at me. I won’t fall to you.”

The Nightmare King laughed. “Of course you will. A little determination and courage is never enough to ward off pure terror.”

“You sound so certain.” The fire-user growled. “I already told you not to underestimate me. I’m going to break out of here and kick your ass.”

“How do you expect to do that?” Pitch asked curiously. “Your powers have been neutralized by my sand.”

“Like I’d tell you.” Ace sneered. It was true that he did not have a plan yet, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to just sit around and wait to fall into nightmares. “Besides, even if I can’t escape on my own, Jack will come for me.”

Pitch snorted. “Do you really think that Jack will rescue you? He can never even find _me_ unless I want him to. Don’t worry; I’ll let him stumble across this place eventually. If only to see your mangled, broken body and crushed spirit.”

“Don’t count on it.” The fire-user said.

“Oh, I am.” Pitch said gently. “After all, how do you think I killed your predecessor?”

Ace scoffed, dull eyes flickering like glowing embers that were about to light. “How many times do I have to tell you… I’m _not_ afraid of you. And nothing you say or do will make me afraid of you. You want to know why I’m so confident? Because you plan to use me to torment the people I love, my _family_ , and I will _never_ let you hurt them!” The last sentence was uttered in a defiant shout.

“Family…” Pitch murmured, the malice in his eyes fading. Then it was back, accompanied by a sneer. “How sentimental. How _naïve_. Family and love will not be enough to save you.”

“Well dreams have power, so why shouldn’t bonds?” Ace said lightly and determinedly, but also with a biting undertone.

The Nightmare King studied him, a knowing smirk on his lips. “I suppose we shall see how strong your will is soon enough. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. Sweet dreams.”

He vanished before Ace could respond.

The fire-user leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes and breathing softly. If he concentrated enough, he could feel exactly where the black sand was creeping through his body, the areas feeling empty and cold and _wrong_ where the nightmarish poison was etching itself through his flesh.

_I wonder what my nightmares will be,_ the fire-user thought.

Ace recalled the empty, frigid void he had woken from and felt a shiver of fear, but banished it just as quickly, thinking about Jack and Luffy and the freedom of the open skies and sea.

_Don’t freak out already. I can’t give Pitch any more power over me than he already has through the sand. I need to think about this logically, try to predict what visions I’ll see, so when I finally do fall asleep I will know what to expect and know it’s not real._

Ace would persevere. Pitch may not be able to turn him into a Fearling, but the fire-user still wasn’t going to fall to the Boogieman’s nightmares. He wouldn’t be used against his loved ones, as an example or a threat. He would stay sane, live, _survive_ for them.

The Summer Spirit had always lived for others, never himself. He had always lived so that others would be happy, would have people to protect them, would have someone to turn to if they needed help. He had lived for Luffy, for Jack, for Sabo, for Oyaji and the Whitebeard Pirates… this challenge would not be any different.

_I’ll beat the nightmares and fear and regain my freedom_ , Ace thought stubbornly. _I can’t let fear control me, not even for a second._ _Even if I break out of here, the nightmares won’t go away, so I need to stay strong. For them._

Sitting along in the cold, dark prison cell, the fire-user began to plot his escape.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Luffy hummed cheerfully as he walked out of his room on the Thousand Sunny. His stir craziness from being stuck on a ship for weeks had been sated by the short island adventure he had took part in more than a week ago. He was actually happy to be out at sea again. It helped that Sanji had cooked him _meat_ and Nami and Franky had actually let him train and fish without yelling so the days were passing in a blur.

As far as the Straw Hat Captain knew, Traffy had been in his room ever since they found the mystery sand, but if experimenting and being antisocial made the surgeon happy, who was Luffy to judge? The mystery sand and mystery creatures had held Luffy’s attention for all of three seconds before he moved on and almost forgot about it.

Luffy’s thoughts wandered to more important matters, like breakfast, and the pirate dearly hoped that Sanji was cooking meat again. The Captain had actually hunted and caught a few large animals on the mystery island, so the pirates had plenty to spare.

The Captain grinned, pushing the door to the kitchen. “Hey, Sanji! What’s for…”

The room was empty.

Luffy blinked, looking around in confusion as he walked deeper into the silent galley. “Sanji? Are you not up yet?”

There was no answer, and the pirate frowned. “Maybe it’s not morning yet.” He mumbled, hurrying out of the kitchen.

A glance out of the window at the shining sun revealed that theory to be false. First he checked each of his nakama’s rooms, finding only made beds and eerie quiet. Then he went to Law’s guest room, but it was as vacant as the rest. Nervous, Luffy quickened his steps, dashing from room to room, leaving doors open as he rushed around the ship.

The aquarium bar: empty.

The sick bay: empty.

The library: empty.

The bathroom: empty.

Usopp’s Factory: empty.

Franky’s workshop: empty.

The crow’s nest… empty.

Luffy felt cold.

He made his way down the mast, turning around in a circle as he searched desperately for someone, _anyone_ else on the ship. His nakama was gone. Unless they had all managed to turn invisible, something had happened to his friends. They had disappeared, and he had no idea how or why.

_Were they taken by Marines?_ He thought angrily, fists clenching. _No, that can’t be it. They would have captured me too._

An uncomfortable, uneasy feeling was forming in his chest, but Luffy ignored it, trying his best to think.

_“Use your brain, rubber-head.”_ He could practically hear Nami saying.

“Okay.” Luffy said aloud. “My crew is gone. They were here last night.” He gritted his teeth, eyes roving over the pristine condition of the ship around him. “There probably wasn’t a fight. I would have heard it, and the ship would be damaged.”

His voice was the only thing to be heard in the silence. Even the sea was refusing to make a sound, the waves eerily mute as they crashed against the ship’s side. The pirate did not like the silence. Not a bit.

Luffy’s right hand began to tremble from an emotion he did not want to identify, and so he broke the terrible quiet once more. “So where did they go?”

“You shouldn’t be thinking about where, but why.” An unfamiliar voice said.

Luffy spun on his heel, raising his fists and narrowing his eyes at the speaker. A teenaged boy that might be around his age sat on the railing of the ship, bare feet waving over the deck as he swung them back and forth. His skin was pale, his hair was white as snow, and he wore a blue hoodie. A wooden staff dangled from his right hand, held in a loose grip.

He seemed… familiar.

“Who are you?” Luffy demanded. “What did you do with my crew?”

Blue eyes looked at him, and the stranger spoke in a voice like an icy wind, sharp and frigid. “You know who I am. And I didn’t do anything with your crew. They left on their own.”

Something sharp stabbed through the pirate’s chest but he ignored it, baring his teeth and pointing a shaking hand at the stranger. “That’s a lie! My nakama would never leave me.”

“Oh, really?” the white-haired intruder asked. “Why do you think that? Because they’re _loyal_? Because they _love_ their Captain?”

“Yes!” Luffy proclaimed, loudly and confidently.

The stranger scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “How hypocritical of you. You think they won’t abandon you, when all you do is abandon others.”

Luffy stared at him in shock before shaking his head, turning away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wasting my time. I’m going to find my crew.”

Cold gripped his feet and the pirate looked down to see ice crawling up his ankles, pinning him to the deck.

_Did that Ice Admiral guy die?_ He wondered briefly. _This mystery guy has his powers!_

“Don’t turn your back on me again!” the stranger snarled in a low voice.

A look back at him revealed blue eyes that literally glowed with rage. Tensing, Luffy attempted to throw a punch, only for his arm to remain its normal length and the blow to miss spectacularly. The pirate stared at the nonworking rubber limb in confusion and attempted to coat his legs with Haki to break free of the ice. Nothing happened.

Luffy shoved aside his rising bewilderment, glaring at the stranger. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, mystery guy. I don’t know you.”

If possible, his response only made the stranger angrier. Ice crackled loudly as it covered his staff and thin frame, and his blue eyes shone with loathing as they met Luffy’s.

“I shouldn’t have expected more from you.” He snarled. “But fine. Let me spell it out for you. You _abandoned_ me, left me alone, and couldn’t be bothered to even _try_ to remember me! You always claim that you love your _nakama_ , and will never forget your _nakama_ , and will do anything for your _nakama_ —” He said the precious word with open scorn, the ice thickening around him each time it left his lips. “—but that’s a lie. You claim that being alone is worse than death, but how do you think you left _me_? The only person I had left in this world _died_ because of you!”

The ice was covering the deck now, the sky above darkening ominously as a storm rushed in. The waves slammed into the ship with gusto, rocking it back and forth, and if not for the ice covering his legs, the pirate might have stumbled.

“I’m sorry.” Luffy did not know what prompted him to say the words, but they fell from his lips with an ease he was unused to.

“Don’t give me that crap.” The ice-user spat. “Don’t pretend that you’re actually sorry. You’re never sorry. You never care about anyone except your precious nakama, yet you fail, forget, and disregard them as easily as you do strangers, don’t you? What an amazing Captain you are! I’m certain you’ll be a great Pirate King with _that_ track record, kid.”

Images flashed in front of Luffy’s eyes. Losing the Going Merry. Fighting Usopp. His crew being taken away by Kuma. Ace dying in his arms.

“When were you _ever_ able to protect them?” the stranger asked coldly. “When were you ever able to keep your ‘promises’? You’re an idiot, a hypocrite, and a failure, and the sooner you get that, the better off everyone will be. Your crew realized that you weren’t strong enough to protect them, and decided to leave before they all _died_ because of your incompetence.”

His words seemed to echo around the empty ship, the silence that followed more noticeable then before. Ice began to manifest in the air around the stranger, hovering eerily above the ground.

“That’s not true.” Luffy said, unable to move as ice crept further up his legs, passing his waist. “They’d never leave me alone.”

The stranger walked up to him, something akin to pity in his hard gaze. “Maybe.” He conceded.  “But you’d leave them. Forget them. _Just like you left and forgot me._ ”

The ice floating around the intruder finished forming, taking the shape of spears. Luffy made to dodge, but his limbs were trapped and refused to obey him.

He could not even scream as lances of ice flew at him, plunging into his arms and chest—

Luffy awoke with a shout, heart pounding.

Someone was knocking on his door, and it opened without prompting. Sanji poked his head into the room, raising a curly eyebrow.

“Breakfast is ready, Shitty Captain. Chopper thought you might be sick because you didn’t rush in an hour before it was done.” He said casually, taking a draft from his cigarette.

Luffy stared at the cook, causing him to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. The pirate abruptly bounded over and glomped Sanji, wrapping his arms around him several times.

“Gah! What the—?” Sanji spluttered.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Luffy mumbled, still holding the cook tightly. “Are the others here, too?”

“Yes.” Sanji said slowly, before deciding the Captain was just being his scatterbrained self. “They’re in the kitchen. I made bacon and—”

Like the words were a trigger, Luffy forgot about his nightmare, bolting towards the galley with Sanji still wrapped in his arms.

“ _Meeeeaaaaattttttt!_ ”

“Shitty Captain! _Let me go!_ ” Sanji shouted.

Luffy laughed heartily, smiling at his nakama as the last remnants of his fear drained away from his mind. His crew was here. They had not left him. They never would. And he would never abandon or forget them either. No matter was the mystery dream ice-guy said.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Being allied with the Straw Hats was an interesting experience to say the least. Perhaps those with the ‘Will of D’ were prone to bouts of madness, because why else would Trafalgar D. Water Law allow himself to be dragged into the craziness of Straw Hat and his crew day after day.

Even worse, the surgeon did not exactly get annoyed by Luffy’s insanity anymore, and was seriously beginning to consider asking Bepo to lock him away next time he saw his navigator so the madness did not spread.

At least Law was currently away from the Straw Hats and their antics, in the room their shipwright Franky had kindly set up for him shortly after he came to the Sunny. Vials, beakers, and other tools were spread across his work table. The Heart Pirates Captain was no chemist, but he loved to experiment on the unknown, and the black sand was certainly an enigma worth investigating.

It did not reform or try to rejoin a larger source like Law considered it might. It also reacted like nonliving objects did when subjected to his Room. Using Observation Haki revealed nothing as well. In fact, it disappeared entirely as if there was nothing there to sense.

Yet the sand still gave off the same feeling it did when shaped into the form of those creatures, expelling what could only be described as a malicious aura. An aura that would suggest that it held some type of life when it in fact appeared to not be living at all.

The only reason Law knew the sand was giving off a dark feeling was that any time he or another Straw Hat entered the room holding it, they’d feel uneasy. Usopp and Nami were the most vocal about their discomfort, asking why the surgeon wanted the sand and avoiding it as best they could.

Law leaned back in his chair, staring at the black sand contemplatively. In the week and a half since he and the Straw Hats had faced the nightmarish creatures, all he could conclude about the sand was that it gave him a bad vibe and should not be touched under any circumstances until it was deemed to not be poisonous. It had taken some manipulation of his allies, but the surgeon was eventually able to surmise that the sand somehow caused anxiety or fear in anyone who was near it.

Reactions ranged from flinching and paling in the more controlled Straw Hats’ cases, to outright screaming or sweating for the more fearful crew members. It was almost as if the sand were a predator waiting to strike from the shadows, with the humans unable to see it but knowing that something near them was watching them with the intent to kill.

Even Law had felt slightly uncomfortable when he had been near the black sand at first, but as time passed his curiosity stamped out his worry and he could be near the sand without issues.

_Prolonged exposure leads to lessened effects…?_ The surgeon mused.

It was all very interesting indeed.

Law stretched his arms over his head and cracked his neck, wondering what time it was. His only indicator that days had passed since he had first locked himself in his room was Blackleg, whenever the cook brought his food.

The surgeon was honestly surprised that Sanji and the others had not insisted on him joining them in the aquarium bar or galley for meals. He briefly pondered if they too were worried about the sand and the creatures it came from, but dismissed the thought of the Straw Hats having such a normal reaction to anything. Most likely they had decided to give Law space to do what he wanted to for once.

The Heart Pirate frowned at the walls of his room, wishing for a moment that it had a window so he had an idea what time it was. He pushed back his chair and removed his gloves before rising to his feet. Perhaps he would be able to convince Sanji to give him some coffee. He was not worryingly tired yet, but he would rather remain alert then drift off and—

An explosion rocked the ship, making Law stumble. The bang was followed by Franky and Nami’s raised voices, the navigator and shipwright’s ire unanimously directed at their Captain. The surgeon caught himself and regained his footing, rolling his eyes.

_It took long enough for Straw Hat-ya to break something again. I wonder what it was this…_

His right hand was tingling.

Law blinked, looking down at where he had caught himself. His hands were on his desk, the right on wood, the left planted in the black sand. As if his realization had summoned the symptom, Law began to feel lightheaded, the room blurring around him.

Without hesitation, he took a breath, shouting as loud as he could. “ _Luffy!_ ”

He wanted to say more, to get the sand off his hand, to warn them not to touch it, but blackness reached up like a monster’s maw as an unnatural exhaustion clung to his body. Law was falling again, and this time he did not have the strength to catch himself. He hit the wooden floor hard, head narrowly missing his worktable.

The first thing he noticed was that he was cold, like he had been left outside in the snow.

The next thing he noticed was that his heart was beating faster, his breathing quickening as if he were having a panic attack.

The third thing he noticed was a little green hummingbird-like creature flitting in front of his face, mismatched blue and purple eyes looking at him with what could only be identified as horror.

Before Law could consider the oddity in front of him, the tiredness _yanked_ at his consciousness, and his grey eyes slid shut.

He lingered long enough to hear running footsteps and the sound of a door slamming open, and then his senses abandoned him.

Sight returned, and Law found himself standing in familiar white streets. White roads, white houses, and white stone fountains surrounded him, the only splotches of color around being the emerald trees and clear blue sky. The surgeon turned in a circle, staring at the hauntingly peaceful white buildings in shock, when a giggle caught his attention.

He looked to his right, stiffening when he spotted the three people standing in front of the unburned townhouse-like hospital. A black-haired man, kind-faced woman, and brunette girl stood together before the building, all smiling gently at Law.

“Big brother!” the brown-haired girl— _Lami_ — called, waving and laughing from where she stood beside their parents. “Come play!”

Law stared at his family speechlessly, taking in his father’s easygoing smile, his mother’s serene expression, and his sister’s laughing face. Their skin was clear of white spots, their eyes shining with hope and light, and for a single moment the surgeon thought that maybe all the terrors he had lived through had been nothing more than a terrible nightmare.

Then the image wavered, and everything was in flames. Human-shaped shadows ran and screamed around Law, some falling to the ground as crimson blood burst from their bodies. Smoke and ash polluted the air alongside the smell of burning flesh, and as Law watched Flevance became a living hell.

And yet still the surgeon’s family smiled, as if they could not see the horrors and despair around them. Shadowy figures with those loathed hats rose behind them like demons, guns raised and ready to fire.

“Move! Run!” Law shouted, but his family did not hear, continuing to smile at him as the Marines aimed their rifles at their heads.

Law’s paralysis faded and he jerked forward, only to realize his limbs were too short. The distance between himself and his family lengthened, each step he took seeming to move him further away from them. He tried to summon a Room, but his hands were small and not-inked with hearts or death, the hands of the child that had lost everything.

The surgeon— ten year-old boy?— screamed as his family was each shot in the head, falling to the ground with open eyes and cheek-splitting grins on their faces. Law made it to their sides at last, collapsing to his knees in their blood, and Lami’s head turned, her unseeing eyes staring blankly at the surgeon.

“Let’s play together forever, big brother.” She whispered.

Law felt cold metal press against the back of his head but could not turn to look at the Marine that was going to kill him. He shut his watery grey eyes, taking in the sounds and smells of the massacre, and a shot rang out.

The Heart Pirate jerked into consciousness, grey eyes snapping open as he pulled in gulps of air.

His skin was clammy and he trembled slightly, a cold sweat covering his brow. Law sat up quickly, nearly knocking heads with Luffy, who had noticed his return to wakefulness and had been hovering over him. Luckily for the surgeon, the rubber pirate leaned backwards out of the way, grinning happily.

“Traffy’s awake!” Straw Hat gasped. He turned away from Law. “Chopper! He’s awake!”

“I see that, Luffy.” The doctor said sternly, shooing his captain away. “Please, give him room so I can look him over.”

“I’m fine.” Law croaked, cursing mentally when his voice wavered.

He realized that he was in the bed in the sick bay, the desk and all its components easily visible from where he lay. Straw Hat and Chopper were the only ones present, though Law had a feeling the only reason the rest of the crew was not crowding around him was because of the limited space. Or because the doctor kicked them out. The reindeer could be rather forceful when it came to his patients.

The tanuki-like doctor gave Law an unimpressed glare. “You were unconscious for more than a day.”

“I’m still—”

“Say you’re fine again and I’ll have Zoro get out the seastone and chain you down while I check you over.” Chopper said threateningly.

Despite his words, the doctor’s voice shook slightly, but Law had a feeling that it wasn’t because of wariness of the Surgeon of Death for once. Surprisingly, Luffy backed away to let the doctor work on his patient without comment. Alarm bells rang in Law’s head at the Straw Hat Captain’s actions.

“What happened?” he asked forcefully, sensing that there had been more to his illness than just falling unconscious.

Chopper busily took his pulse, not quite meeting the Heart Pirate’s gaze. “Luffy caused an explosion that rocked the ship. You fell and touched the black sand you were experimenting on. You called for Luffy before it caused you to fall asleep. We couldn’t wake you, not even with smelling salts or other remedies. I believe that the sand is some type of malevolent sedative and…” He hesitated. “…I think it causes nightmares.”

Law shifted uncomfortably, feeling oddly exposed, but had to ask. “Why do you say that?”

Chopper checked his pupils, flashing a light in his eyes. “You… um… Well, you…”

“You were screaming a lot.” Luffy revealed, quietly subdued. “You sounded like you were in pain. I… We couldn’t do anything to help you.”

Law glanced at Straw Hat’s glum expression, guessing the reason for his miserable visage. Luffy could usually punch enemies that threatened and hurt his nakama, but he was helpless against a foe that targeted the mind. Despite himself, the surgeon felt a little touched that he was counted among the people that Straw Hat wanted to protect.

He would never admit that aloud, though. Not even upon pain of death.

“Do you think that mystery sand can give nightmares without the person touching it?” Luffy asked randomly, interrupting the surgeon’s disgustingly sentimental thoughts.

“It might be able to.” Law hypothesized. “Until we find out more about this stuff and the person who controls it, we must consider all things possible until proven otherwise.”

The Straw Hat Captain nodded without comment, still looking disturbingly solemn.

“There appears to not be any lingering side-effects.” Chopper said at last, finished with his exam. “Your heartbeat’s still a little quicker than normal, but that’s most likely from the lingering adrenaline. I’ll keep you under observation for a couple more days, just to be safe.” His gaze grew hard, unyielding. “And stay away from that black sand. When we found you, you had brushed it off your hand, but the little time you had been exposed to it was enough to knock you out for twenty-four hours.”

“All right.” Law agreed, too tired to argue with the small doctor.

He did not remember getting the sand off his skin, though admittedly his memories from right before the incident were a little fuzzy. For some reason, a greenish-turquoise hue kept popping up in his mind, but he could not recall why he would be thinking about such a color.

Regardless, the black sand was dangerous, more dangerous than he had previously thought. It made it all the more important that they find its source, before the person became more of a threat. The horse-like creatures on that island had been sent out for a reason, and Law guessed it was for more than just sightseeing.

Something big was coming, and without a doubt Straw Hat Luffy was going to jump into the middle of it. It would be in Law’s best interest to be ready.

ROTGOPROTGOP

The Man in the Moon really was a meddling old fool.

Pitch ground his teeth as he flipped through his minions’ viewpoints, searching hopelessly for the elusive Winter sprite known as Jack Frost. He knew Tsar Lunar had to have something to do with his sudden inability to locate the Guardian of Fun.

Even with all of the power gained from the people of this world, Pitch could not track his enemies through fear alone, relying on his Nightmares to be his eyes and ears throughout the world. The Nightmare King had wanted to go to Jack to gloat about Ace’s capture, to ensnare the Winter Spirit and make him watch helplessly as his most precious person fell to madness, but no matter how hard he looked, Pitch could not find the elusive Guardian of Fun.

The Man in the Moon _must_ have done something. There was no other explanation. The Boogieman did not know what exactly the Guardian of Children and Earth had done, but he had done _something_. Even when he was in a different world, he still interfered with Pitch’s plans.

The Spirit of Fear gave an angry growl as he paced back in forth in his lair, a few Nightmares and Fearlings watching him from the shadows. It was only Pitch’s control and dignity that kept him from throwing what would only be described as a hissy fit, his anger mounting the more time he spent trying— and failing— to discover where Jack was.

Pitch let loose a curse, darkness flaring around him like a formidable cloak. He did not know how MiM had cloaked Jack, so he had no way to counteract it. The interfering light-bringer had blinded him and his minions, making them currently unable to track his greatest enemy in this world. The Nightmare King paused, a slow smile replacing his scowl as a plan formed in his mind.

If Pitch’s minions were unable to find the Spirit, then he would just have to use pawns that could.


	6. Fiction and Reality

Ace knelt on the sandy beach of an unknown island, chains around his torso and hands pinned uncomfortably behind his back. The manacles on his wrists and ankles cut painfully into his skin because of his position, but the fire-user ignored the ache, staring straight ahead with blank eyes.

Two of Whitebeard’s Commanders— Jozu and Vista— held the ends of the chains that kept the Second Division Commander captive, pulling them taut, while the rest of the Commanders and Whitebeard himself stood around the raven-haired pirate with pure hatred in their eyes. A distant feeling niggled at the fire-user’s mind, murmuring that something was not right about this.

Ace refused to look up at the towering figure of the man he knelt before, focusing firmly on Whitebeard’s feet. He could feel the anger emanating from his Oyaji, the Yonko’s rage permeating the air like heat wafting off of magma.

“You won’t even look upon me, traitor?” Whitebeard growled in a voice reserved only for his worst enemies. “You will not face what you’ve done?”

_Oyaji would never call me a traitor,_ a small part of Ace’s mind whispered.

“I haven’t done anything.” Ace insisted aloud as steadily as he could. “Oyaji, what—”

His head snapped to the side, only Vista and Jozu’s grips on his chains keeping him upright, as Marco struck him with a Haki-imbued fist. Blood trickled from Ace’s mouth and he shivered, wincing in pain.

_Marco wouldn’t hurt me. He’d never hit one of his brothers, not even in anger._

The First Division Commander looked upon his former brother with utter loathing in his glare. “You have _no right_ to call him that after what you’ve done. You damn bastard!”

The Phoenix’s hand rose threateningly and Ace tensed, but Whitebeard stopped his Commander with a gesture. A large hand gripped the fire-user’s chin, forcing him to look his Captain in the eye. The disappointment and rage on Whitebeard’s face made Ace want to sink into the ground or flee, but it was the underlying apathy in his father’s gaze made the pirate want to shrivel up and die. The Yonko was angry at Ace, but not surprised that the fire-user had betrayed them, as if he had expected the son of Roger’s treachery.

_But I didn’t do anything wrong. Even if I did, they’d never hate me like this, right? Then why…?_

“Do you feel no remorse? You caused the deaths of my children. Your _brothers_.” Whitebeard informed him coldly.

“I would never!” Ace pleaded. “You’re my family. I’d never betray any of you!”

“Lies!” Whitebeard spat. “Take responsibility for what you’ve done!”

He grabbed the fire-user roughly by the throat, dragging him upward into the air and turning him so he could look at the island behind him. Gravestones lined the ground, each carved with a name. Among them were markers for Thatch and Oars Jr., countless other grey slabs covering the island as far as the eye could see.

Before he could despair, Ace blinked, the distant nagging feeling that had been pestering him rushing to the forefront of his mind.

“No.” he stated. “You won’t trick me. This isn’t real.”

Whitebeard’s grip on his throat tightened and the fire-user gasped, feeling his bones strain, ready to break.

“You dare to deny the deaths you caused? You dare to—”

“Shut up.” Ace growled, confirming his suspicions because he could still speak clearly despite Not-Oyaji choking him. “This isn’t real. Thatch was m-murdered, and maybe Oars Junior as well, but their deaths were not my fault. And even if they were, Oyaji and the others would not punish me for it. So _shove off_ , Pitch!”

Not-Whitebeard was silent, fury still in his expression and large hand still wrapped around Ace’s throat. The fire-user met his gaze evenly, certain that his belief that this reality was false was indeed correct.

Slowly, Not-Oyaji’s grasp tightened, and Ace could feel the bones in his neck breaking with agonizing slowness. He remained unafraid, glaring defiantly at the fake Whitebeard until his neck snapped and everything went black.

Ace flinched slightly as he stirred in his cell, willing away the feeling of the Not-Oyaji crushing his trachea and spine.

_Whitebeard Pirates hating me and blaming me for the deaths of the fallen, check,_ Ace thought grimly, still feeling the ghostly touch of Not-Whitebeard’s hand around his throat. _The pain is nothing but an illusion_ , he reminded himself sternly. _My body will be unaffected, and so I will not let it influence my mind. I am real, this is reality, and my fears are unfounded. They will never come true._

The words were familiar and had become his recently adopted mantra as he cycled through waves of nightmares. Ace had already searched inside himself and predicted multiple fears that the black sand would try to trap him in, stoically plotting ways to recognize and counter the horrors he saw. He needed to be ready for when he inevitably lost consciousness in order to have some semblance of control to tell fiction from reality.

Logical thinking and looking within himself for his fears weren’t Ace’s strongest suits but they were all he had to prepare himself, and he would use his mind to the best of his ability to keep himself aware and ready for Pitch’s next mental onslaught.

As best he could, anyway. At least he was better at using his brain than Luffy.

Ace did not let himself grow despondent when thinking of his brother, instead smiling as he pictured the red-faced, constipated look Luffy got when he tried to think about something too hard. His grin faltered slightly as he recalled why he had been caught up in the latest illusion at first.

_I didn’t realize I fell asleep. I’m constantly exhausted now, and when I closed my eyes for a second, I was out like a light and started dreaming. I need to be more careful._

Because his prison was more like a glorified cave, Ace did not even have stones to count to attempt to keep himself alert and busy. Or maybe he just could not see the individual bricks in the dark. Either way, all he could do was sit in his cell with only his thoughts to keep him company.

_Think about more potential nightmares or plot my escape?_ Ace mused sarcastically.

He considered his energy level, grimacing as the ever-present iciness in his veins flared to remind him of its presence. _Stay positive. I’m less tired than before, so hopefully I’ll be awake for a few hours at least. Escape plan it is._

It was more difficult to come up with a way out of his prison than he thought it would be. Ace was currently powerless, his flames contained by the black sand that poisoned his body, so busting out with brute force was an unlikely option. His hands were chained to the wall above his head, so reaching the lock picks he kept in his boot was out of the question as well.

The Summer Spirit also did not need to eat, go to the bathroom, or be released from his chains for any reason he could think of. So he would have as much of a chance of tricking Pitch into releasing him as convincing Marco to change his name to ‘The Great Flying Blue Chicken’.

Ace cracked another smile as he pictured the expression the Phoenix would make if the fire-user made such a suggestion to him. He had to stay lighthearted. Smiles, laughter, and funny thoughts were all his allies here. The Summer Spirit wasn’t one for reckless optimism like Luffy, but he would try his best to emulate his little brother and just let his happy emotions run free.

Imagining kicking Pitch’s shadowy ass was also a great way to pass the time and keep a positive attitude.

_Focus, Ace_ , the fire-user reminded himself. _Just because I’m adopting Luffy’s happy-go-lucky attitude doesn’t mean I need to borrow his scatterbrained tendencies too._

Coldness washed over him like an icy wave and Ace shivered, shifting uncomfortably. After eating the Mera Mera no Mi, he had thought his days of feeling chilled were behind him. That notion had been thoroughly dashed when he had been captured in Blackbeard’s darkness, and again when he was chained up in Impel Down.

It really should not surprise him that here, in the Nightmare King’s prison, that he couldn’t get warm. Especially with the poison in his blood that felt both empty and sharp, like an endless black abyss was ripping through his veins, threatening to drag him into—

_Focus._

The fire-user redirected his thoughts back to plotting his liberation. He couldn’t bust out with his current strength and Pitch wouldn’t release him unless he was planning to kill him out back— or in front of Jack. That currently left Ace with the option of waiting to be rescued by the Winter Spirit, who was definitely looking for him by now.

_Oh, yes,_ a sneering voice mocked in the back of his mind. _Because having others rescue you worked **so** well last time._

Ace pretended the negative voice did not exist, determinedly _not_ following the line of thought that told him said voice was a very bad thing that should not be there. Jack was looking for him. That was a fact. There was no way that the Winter Spirit was going to leave the Summer Spirit to rot in Pitch’s clutches.

If only Ace had a way to contact him or get his attention. The Man in the Moon and Mother Nature had given him so many other powers; couldn’t they give their children telepathy or super-tracking skills or something?

Ace chuckled aloud at the ridiculous thought.

“Ace? What’s so funny?” an achingly familiar voice asked.

The fire-user’s smile immediately vanished, leaving behind a stoic expression. His eyes widened briefly before his gaze turned apathetic as well.

“This is your next tactic, huh? You really know how to piss me off, I’ll give you that.”

What appeared to be Luffy stood before Ace, confusion in his expression as he stared at the chained fire-user. The Straw Hat-wearing pirate looked older than the last time his brother had seen him, a little taller than he had been at seventeen and wearing a new outfit. He spun in a circle, looking around the dungeon with open bewilderment. That face looked so genuine, so real, so _familiar_ , but Ace hardened his heart to the sight.

_It’s not Luffy._ Ace told himself. _I fell asleep again. It is **not** Luffy._

“What are you talking about, Ace?” Not-Luffy asked after he finished inspecting the room, looking him up and down. “Why are you chained up?”

“Don’t even try it.” Ace said vehemently. “I won’t fall for your tricks.”

Hurt flashed across Not-Luffy’s face and Ace forced the guilt that threatened to rise away. This was not his brother.

“I don’t understand, Ace.” Not-his-brother said pleadingly, sadness in his voice. “What did I do wrong? Why is Ace angry at me?”

Ace remained unmoved by Not-Luffy’s wide, teary eyes. _Don’t fall for it. This isn’t Luffy. Focus on anger, focus on apathy. Distance yourself._ _This is an image created by Pitch, so it’s practically him in disguise. Act like it._

“Don’t play games with me. Just scram.” He hissed.

“But I…” Not-his-brother looked so downtrodden, so _confused_. “Why are you still in here? Usually—”

The fire-user scoffed, interrupting the fake. “ _Stop_ pretending that you don’t know what’s going on! You’re the one who left me here, asshole. I won’t forget!” _I know what reality is, and I will continue to know._

Not-Luffy flinched. “That’s not true. I tried to rescue Ace. I’d never leave my brother behind!” Tears began to stream down the fake’s cheeks.

Ace kept his voice cold, wrestling with the brotherly instinct that wanted him to comfort the illusion. _It’s Pitch. It’s Pitch. It’s. Pitch._ “ _Shut up_. You’re not my brother. Don’t pretend that you are! Luffy would never be such a weak crybaby.”

Luffy— _Not_ \- Luffy— backed up a step, trembling visibly with a heartbroken expression on his face. “H-How— How can you…?”

Suddenly anger clouded Not-Luffy’s features and Ace braced himself.

_Here we go._

“You’re the one who keeps talking about me abandoning you, when you’re the one who abandoned me! _Why did you leave me?!_ ” Luffy— **_Not_** _-Luffy,_ the fire-user reminded himself— screamed, punching Ace in the stomach.

The fire-user let out a pained grunt and clenched his teeth, refusing to make another sound. The apparition of his brother punched him again and again, screaming incoherently and blaming him for dying and being stupid and deserting his little brother. Ace did not cry out again as the rage-filled blows rained down on him, staring past Not-Luffy stoically.

“You promised. _You promised you wouldn’t die!_ ” Not-his-brother shrieked, grief and anger melding together unsettlingly in his voice. “You broke your promise! You always do!”

Not-Luffy’s knuckles were bleeding. Ace briefly wondered how that was possible before he remembered this was a nightmare. The rules of reality had no value here, so fists made of rubber would split and bleed when it came into contact with his skin.

_It’s not Luffy_ , Ace repeated silently as the illusion continued to beat him up. _This is all fake. None of this is real._

Not-Luffy was openly crying now, ceasing in his attack as his arms wrapped around Ace. The fire-user tensed, expecting his— _Not_ -his-brother to go for his throat, but the elongated rubbery arms remained around his torso, only exuding enough pressure for a hug. It hurt badly because of his wounds, but it was almost as if the vision wasn’t trying to intentionally harm him.

“Why?” Luffy hiccupped, burying his face in Ace’s chest. “Why did you leave me alone?”

“I’m sorry.” Ace mumbled and instantly berated himself. “Get off! You’re not real!” he snapped, thrashing in the fake’s hold.

Not-Luffy gave him that wounded puppy-dog look again, mixed with the expression the pirate used whenever someone missed something obvious. “Ace is the one who’s fake.” He said simply, as if he believed it with every ounce of his being.

An odd, numbing feeling settled over Ace’s limbs, and he looked down to see his arms and legs were fading away, like a ghost’s. Not-Luffy watched his vanishing with open horror in his expression, crying out as he clutched at his brother, his limbs going through the fire-user’s body.

“No! Don’t fade away! I didn’t mean it! _Ace!_ ”

Ace wanted to say something— to either reassure or snap at the Not-Luffy— but found he could not speak. Soon enough his entire body was gone, vanishing as if he had never existed. He did not fall into nothingness like he feared, instead lingering in his chains as an unseen, untouchable spectator in the cell.

His little brother wailed and screamed, desperately crying out for him, unable to ever see him again, and Ace slowly realized that he had done much worse than just abandon the Straw Hat Pirate.

He had left Luffy completely alone, a fate that was worse than death to him.

In his cage, Ace woke up with bruises on his skin. He winced as his wounds flared with pain, peering blearily at his torso. His tan abdomen was now a mottled mix of purples, black, and yellows, which would only look even lovelier once the contusions fully formed.

The fire-user swallowed hard, disturbed by the developing discolorations. _Some of the injuries I receive can transfer to reality? Shit._

His thoughts turned to the other aspects of his latest nightmare and his mood darkened further. He had known the nightmares would use Luffy eventually. His brother was the obvious choice to break him with cruelty and fears, especially since so many of Ace’s deepest worries centered around Luffy. Even though he knew in reality that his brother would never hurt him, the thought of the Straw Hat Pirate blaming him for his misery made Ace feel physically ill.

Ace knew he would not survive it if Luffy ever decided to hate him in real life. His brother had always been his light, his pillar and most trusted family in a world where many despised the mere possibility of Gol D. Roger having a child. The thought that Luffy could turn against— _despise_ — Ace… it would destroy the fire-user if that ever came to pass.

It was a good thing he knew that those hallucinations were false. Still, to have his nightmares take over so seamlessly, for Ace to fall asleep without knowing…

It was so real. Luffy’s voice, his expressions, even the fact that he looked older now… It was all so life-like. Everything from his reactions to his emotions were spot-on for how Ace predicted he might act if they ever saw each other again, though he was certain that his little brother wouldn’t be so violent towards him.

And the way he had screamed when Ace had unwillingly left him again…

_It wasn’t Luffy. It wasn’t Luffy,_ Ace repeated.

Despite his conviction, tears pricked at his eyes. _I’m a terrible brother._ _How could I ever think Luffy would get over my death and move on like nothing happened?_ The fire-user shook his head violently. _No. Stop that. It **wasn’t** Luffy. That was just your fears manifesting themselves based on your assumptions._

But what if Luffy really did think those things? What if he _did_ resent and blame Ace?

_I deserve it_ , the fire-user thought morosely. He threw his head back, smacking it against the rock wall behind him and letting the bolt of pain focus his mind. _No. **Don’t** start thinking that already. That’s what Pitch wants._

The coldness inside him was growing stronger, harsher, and the fire-user could not summon the happy thoughts necessary to hold it back. He looked down at his toned stomach once more, watching numbly as the black lines extended slightly, creeping up towards his chest and down past his waistband.

_Damn it._ He thought as he sat alone in the silence. He blinked away his tears, clenching his fists. _Get a grip. You can’t start cracking already. Focus on reality. Plan an escape. You have to rescue yourself._

His little self-pep talk lightened his mood slightly as he turned his mind away from the latest nightmare and towards his future prison break. But even as Ace continued to plot a way to escape, an ugly thought planted itself at the back of his mind.

_Maybe I should have just stayed dead._

ROTGOPROTGOP

The Straw Hat Pirates settled lazily across the deck of the Thousand Sunny, enjoying the warmth of the sun that shone brightly above them. Both the day and ocean were surprisingly calm, and the pirates had taken the time to unwind after the harrowing last few weeks.

Zoro was napping— as usual— and Sanji had taken it upon himself to attempt to make the swordsman do something productive. Again. Robin was reading a book, Nami was relaxing in a chair, Brook was joking with Chopper, Usopp was telling tall-tales to an amused Franky, and even Law was just sitting down and merely enjoying the nice day.

Only one person on the ship was not present, his absence becoming more and more obvious as time passed and the quiet peacefulness lingered.

“Where’s the Shitty Captain?” Sanji asked, directing his attention away from Zoro for the moment.

“He went back to his room right after breakfast.” Nami mentioned, brushing her hair out of her face as she sat up. “He looked a little tired.”

“Do you think he’s sick?” Chopper gasped. “Does he need a doctor?”

“He _has_ been acting strange lately.” Usopp mentioned. “Well, stranger than usual.”

Sanji thought about Luffy’s behavior for the past couple weeks, silently agreeing with the sniper’s statement. The Captain had always been an overly affectionate and tactile person, but lately it seemed like he was wrapping his limbs around and touching his crewmates whenever possible. Almost as if they would disappear if he did not make sure they were there.

He’d also taken to zoning out in the middle of conversations, staring blankly into the distance as the color drained from his face and his eyes darkened. Luffy would snap back into cheerfulness and throw a smile at whoever he was with before they could ask what was wrong, and would only change the subject or wander away if the issue was pressed. Overall, it was very odd, and very worrisome.

Zoro cracked his eye open, gaze drifting over his crewmates. “I think he’s just taking a nap. He hasn’t been sleeping well. I’ve heard him up during the night.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it?” Nami shrieked.

The swordsman shrugged. “It’s not my business.”

“What if he _is_ sick?” Usopp asked, looking distressed. “Maybe we should check up on him.”

“Check up on who?” a familiar voice mumbled.

They all looked towards the door that led below deck, the crew displaying a range of reactions as they saw their Captain. Luffy looked exhausted. Dark circles were under his eyes, his face was pinched and slightly gaunt, and his hair was so mussed it was noticeable even with his straw hat. His skin was also paler than usual and he moved with a tense heaviness, almost as if he were in physical pain.

Naturally, it was Chopper who noticed the most distressing detail about their Captain’s appearance.

“You’re bleeding!” the reindeer gasped, rushing forward.

He grabbed Luffy’s hand with his own, looking at the split knuckles with horror. The other Straw Hats and Law gathered around as well, some making concerned noises.

“What did you do?” Nami demanded.

Luffy shrugged dismissively. “I must’ve punched the wall in my sleep. Shishishi.”

“Don’t laugh it off!” Chopper said forcefully. “You could have splinters.”

The Straw Hat Captain’s grin faltered. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t hit wood.”

The doctor looked ready to argue. “But you just—”

“I said it’s _fine_.” Luffy snapped, jerking his hand out of the doctor’s grasp. He stiffened, guilt flashing across his face as he smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Chopper. I’m just… tired.”

It was a weak excuse, and even Luffy seemed to know it. The doctor just silently took out some bandages and disinfectant, wrapping his Captain’s knuckles. The other Straw Hats observed the exchange without comment, with Sanji subtly moving to block the door that led to below deck and leaning against the frame with a cigarette between his teeth.

Luffy turned towards it a moment later, frowning when the cook did not step aside. “Ah. Could you move, Sanji? I really want to go back to sleep—”

“I don’t think so.” The blonde-haired cook said stubbornly. “Something’s wrong.”

Their Captain looked anywhere except at his crew, lips pursing suspiciously. “Nope. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t try it, Luffy.” Zoro said sternly. “We aren’t as unobservant as you think. You’ve been having trouble sleeping for weeks, haven’t you?”

Luffy could not come up with a lie, so he remained silent. Sanji saw Law shifting uncomfortably in the background, and silently apologized for involving the Heart Pirate in a private Straw Hat matter, but if they did not confront their Captain here, he would avoid them or change the subject, leaving their questions unanswered.

“Have you been having nightmares?” Chopper asked bluntly, concerned. His ears twitched as his eyes widened. “Is that why you asked if that black sand could cause bad dreams without touching you?”

“Noooo…” Luffy mumbled unconvincingly, looking sideways.

Sanji bit back a curse, turning directly to Law and glaring at the surgeon. “Take that sand and dump it in the ocean. I don’t care about learning its secrets. We can’t—”

“I’ve been having nightmares since before we got the mystery sand, actually.” Luffy blurted, before chuckling awkwardly and scratching his ear. “They started up again before we went to the island.”

He clapped his hands over his mouth before he could say more. The cook brutally squashed the feeling of failure that threatened to rise up as he realized that his Captain had been plagued by night terrors for weeks and they had not noticed nor tried to help him. He had a bad feeling he knew what the ‘returning’ nightmares were about as well.

“All right.” Nami said suddenly with extreme force as she marched up to Luffy, poking him in the chest. “Spill. Tell us about the dreams. Talking can help you know.” Her tone was abrasive, but held a hint of gentleness that made Sanji want to swoon.

_That’s my beloved, beautiful Nami-swan. So caring, so considerate, so—_

“Usually I dream about Ace dying. Tonight, I was with him in his prison cell, and he told me I wasn’t his brother because I left him to die.” Luffy said flatly.

That was one way to snap Sanji out of a perverted mental state. He shifted the cigarette in his teeth, studying his Captain with serious eyes as he tried to think of what to say.

“Luffy…” Usopp murmured, sadness in his tone.

“It was not your fault.” Robin was the one who spoke the words they were all thinking. “Ace would never blame you for what happened.”

“I know.” Luffy said quietly, too quietly. His expression wavered, as if he were barely able to keep control. “It’s just… after he said that, I got mad and I— I started _hitting_ him. And he just took it. He didn’t scream or flinch at all, and he had this look on his face like he was _expecting_ me to hurt him, like he was used to it and— and—”

Sanji felt horrible as his Captain struggled to keep his emotions in check, curling up slightly as he gripped his beloved straw hat in his hands. The cook was definitely beginning to regret demanding answers in front of Law, who watched his ally break down with an unreadable expression.

“His eyes were so empty.” Luffy croaked. “They were this weird orange-ish color, but they were really dull, like dying embers. He kept saying things that didn’t make sense, and insisting I wasn’t his brother, and when I finally told him he wasn’t real… He faded away.”

_He left me alone._

The Straw Hat Pirate did not say the words, but everyone present knew that was what he was thinking.

Chopper patted the rubber-man’s arm gently, speaking in a soft but firm tone. “Nightmares are to be expected after… after what you went through. You don’t have to be ashamed of them.”

“We’ll help you deal with them in any way we can, bro.” Franky added his two cents. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“Sometimes sharing really _can_ help.” Usopp mentioned. “Really, we’re here for you if you need an ear. That’s what friends are for.”

“Your mental state affects your crew.” Zoro said bluntly but with compassion layered in his tone. “Don’t let bad dreams drag you down.”

Luffy shot them all a beaming smile, misery trickling away before their eyes. “Thanks.” He mumbled, straightening.

Sanji could practically see his normal exuberance returning, like sunlight breaking through dense clouds.

“Is it possible that the proximity of the black sand might be affecting his nightmares?” Robin asked Law candidly.

Sanji would never glare at his beautiful Robin-chwan, but he still felt slight disapproval at her refusal to at least wait until Luffy was out of earshot to ask such things.

“Yes, it could be a factor.” Law replied just as curtly. He visibly hesitated, then sighed. “I still cannot discover anything new about the sand’s origins or exact purpose. There’s nothing new I can learn, so I suppose we could dump it at the first opportunity we have. I’d rather get rid of it in a stable environment though. I don’t know how it might affect a Sea King or the like.”

Alright, so maybe the Heart Pirate wasn’t that bad of a guy. He looked a little too curious about how a Sea King _would_ react to the black sand for Sanji to fully like the man, but his heart seemed to be in the right place.

Without warning, a frown flickered across Law’s face and he removed his hat. He looked at it, huffing, and returning it to his head.

“ _Why_ do you keep doing that?” Nami complained, the surgeon’s new habit annoying the orange-haired thief greatly.

Law scowled. “It feels wrong. Heavier.”

“Maybe you should wash your hat?” Usopp suggested.

The glare he received could have melted steel. Or vaporized it. Sanji was honestly surprised when Usopp did not die a gruesome, fiery death.

“Or not.” The sniper squeaked, hiding behind Robin.

Luffy giggled at Usopp’s terrified expression, and the Straw Hats moved on to less heavy subjects, their worries about nightmares and black sand slowly leaving their minds. Still, as Sanji looked at his Captain’s bandaged hands, the cook could not help but feel that they were missing something important.

The thought was quickly forgotten as Zoro fell asleep in the middle of the deck once more, nearly causing Brook to trip over him, and Sanji decided a flying kick was needed to wake his lazy ass.

ROTGOPROTGOP

“This is hopeless!” Jack shouted in frustration as he soared above yet another island.

This one had plenty of towns, plenty of kids, plenty of targets for Pitch, but not a single Nightmare had poked its nose out of the shadows around Jack since they attacked him and Ace five days ago. The Wind whispered soothingly in the irate Guardian’s ear and he gritted his teeth, only half-listening to its comforting words.

_This is even worse than trying to just find Pitch_ , Jack thought. _Where am I even supposed to begin looking? Pitch can set up a lair in any cave or hole he wants, and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to have it under a broken bed this time. Not like I’d be able to find one little bed in a huge world with millions of islands anyway!_

Jack landed roughly on the ground, pacing back and forth as the Wind and snow swirled in the air around him. Luckily for the islanders, his little snowstorm remained contained in his immediate area.

“Pitch is probably watching me from the shadows and laughing right now.” The Guardian muttered under his breath. “What’s the point of attacking me once but not coming back again, huh? It’s not like I have anyone to save me this time.”

The Winter Spirit kicked a loose stone irritably, watching it go flying into the distance. “I bet he knows I’m too mad to be afraid of him. Stupid freaking Boogieman with his stupid freaking mind games! All this talk about _wars_ and _revenge_ , and he just ends up playing hide-and-seek with me!”

Jack whacked another rock with his staff, sending it soaring. There was a distant _thwack_ as it hit a tree, sending a few leaves fluttering to the ground. The Wind patted his head consolingly, ruffling his white hair. The Guardian sighed, sitting heavily in a snow drift he created as he put his head in his hands.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I can’t find Ace. I can’t find Pitch. All I’m doing is flying around like a confused goose and waiting for something to happen.”

The Wind murmured encouragement in his ears, but Jack found himself wishing that he had a real voice to answer him, a touchable, seeable person to talk to. Specifically, he missed Ace.

“Who knows what Pitch is doing to him.” Jack whispered, trying not to let his imagination run wild. “I know Mother Nature put some type of failsafe in us Seasons so we can’t become Fearlings, but Pitch knows that. He wouldn’t take the time to capture Ace only to kill him, right? So if he hasn’t killed him, can’t turn him, and hasn’t contacted me with demands yet, then what in Manny’s name is Pitch doing to Ace?”

“You know, talking to yourself is a sign of insanity,” a vaguely familiar voice said from behind him.

Jack leapt to his feet, spinning around to face the newcomer. To his shock, a Marine stood before him, two cigars in his mouth and his hands in his pockets as he observed the Spirit. Jack easily recognized the man from three years ago in Alabasta, when Ace had faced him to protect Luffy.

“S-Smoker?” The Guardian stammered, stunned.

“You know me?” Smoker said calmly, observing the Winter Spirit with intense dark eyes. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Jack grappled with his thoughts, trying to rectify his previous encounter with the Logia with the fact that the stern, no-nonsense man _was currently talking to him_.

“Y-You can see me?” he gasped at last.

“Yes. I can.” The Marine growled.

In a single, fluid motion, Smoker unsheathed his jitte, lunging for the Winter Spirit.

The snow pile Jack had been residing on exploded in a rather dramatic puff as Smoker’s weapon struck it. The Guardian swayed out of the way of the Marine’s next blow, yelping as his opponent turned to smoke and lunged for him once more. Jack barely dodged Smoker’s next strike, dancing backwards and gripping his staff in both hands.

“ _Why_ are you attacking me?!” he spluttered, more surprised by the fight than alarmed.

“You are wanted by the World Government.” Smoker growled, swinging his jitte again.

Jack ducked beneath his first swipe and cartwheeled out of the way of his second. The Guardian stayed light on his feet, confusion ebbing away as he realized that yes, Smoker could see him, and yes, the man was currently battling him so _head in the game Show Pony!_

_Huh. That last thought sounded like Bunny_ , Jack mused as he carefully parried the Logia’s sideways sweep, leaping out of range.

“Thanks. That explains everything.” The Winter Spirit said sarcastically. “How would they even know I exist?”

Again, the Logia refused to answer, and Jack found his patience dwindling _. He’s the first human who is able to see me in three years, and all he does is try to fight me. Forget this, I’m out of here!_

“This was fun, Smokey, but I have to go. Places to go, people to find. You know.” Jack said with a wave.

He leapt into the air, feeling Wind swirl around him to take him to the sky. He made it about fifty feet into the air before something wrapped around his ankle. Jack cursed as Smoker’s detached fist dragged him back towards the ground.

The Wind blew the hand away with extreme force— literally— and the Guardian managed to catch himself before he hit the dirt. Jack studied the Logia critically as the man’s extremity reattached to his arm, uncertain of how far Smoker’s range was. His ankle stung where the Wind had ripped the Marine’s hand away but he did not mention it.

_That **hurt**_ , he complained silently. _Jeez, his attack was fast! I don’t know if the Wind would be able to get me away quick enough before he could grab me again. Or he might just send his whole body into the air. Can he do that? Can he fly? Does he know Haki? Blast. Better figure out a way to incapacitate or distract him before getting out of—_

The Logia turned his bottom half into smoke and flew forward. Smoker’s jitte slashed deep into the ground as Jack evaded it. The Marine followed up the attack by literally throwing his fists at the Winter Spirit.

Jack blocked the punches by spinning his frost-covered staff, ducking beneath a sword thrust as Tashigi appeared out of nowhere and attacked him from behind. The Guardian darted out of range once more, raising an eyebrow at the newly arrived Captain.

“Hi Tashi. I was wondering when you were going to show up.” Jack said conversationally. “You two are always together.”

The swordswoman looked disturbed by his statement. “You know us?”

“Tashigi, focus!” Smoker commanded before Jack could reply.

“R-Right.” The Captain stammered, holding her sword defensively. “G-5 are on their way, sir. I went ahead to assist you in capturing the criminal.”

“Do you guys even _know_ my name?” Jack asked, feeling slightly insulted. “Seriously, how can you see me and _why_ are you after me? Give me some answers, dammit!”

Smoker ignored his questions again, he and Tashigi moving as one and they charged the Guardian. Jack carefully parried the Captain’s slash while twisting out of the way of the Logia’s assault. He did not dare to use his ice powers because even though he hated Marines— not these Marines specifically, but still— and they were trying to capture him, he could not risk killing them.

_See, this is why it’s a good thing adults can’t see Spirits back on Earth,_ the Winter Spirit thought grumpily as he back flipped over a sideways sweep from Tashigi.

He almost froze as a thought struck him but was a good enough fighter to resist the urge, landing a hit on Smoker and wincing when the attack did not go through.

“Sorry! I forgot my ice can hit Logias.” He apologized.

Jack skipped backwards and leapt up into a tall tree, continuing his battle of misdirection and evasion. The problem with this fight was not his opponents’ strength per se, but the fact that the Guardian technically could not fight back directly.

Time to use his other favorite tactic then. Most commonly known as acting like a troll and like they weren’t worth his time. If there was one thing the Winter Spirit was good at, it was irritating his opponents. Best to use that to his advantage.

_Smokey’s grumpy and serious like Bunny. I bet it’ll be easy to push his buttons so I can escape. Time to act immature then. Not that I’m ever mature anyway… Wait, I can too be mature! Manny, now my thoughts are sounding even more like Bunny. I am never going to tell him my brain admitted he was right._ The Guardian leaned out of the way of Smoker’s next barrage. _Right. Fighting. Should probably focus on that._

Jack settled on a high branch, eying the Marines suspiciously. “You guys don’t want to experiment on me or something, do you?”

“W-What?” Tashigi spluttered. “Where would you get that idea?”

“Well you can see me, haven’t said something like ‘Why wouldn’t we be able to see you?’, you’re after me, and seem to have an idea of who and what I am…” the Winter Spirit mentioned casually. “Plus you work for the government, and the government always wants to experiment on people!”

With exaggerated ease, he flipped out of the way of another series of long range strikes from Smoker, moving up a branch and sticking his tongue out at the Marines. As Smoker’s body reformed, Jack spotted the familiar blackish color covering parts of his skin.

_Okay, so Smokey_ can _use Armament Haki. Good to know._

“What’s wrong guys? Can’t climb trees?” Jack mocked.

Smoker gave the Spirit a glare, while Tashigi looked positively bewildered by his attitude. Jack mentally patted himself on the back.

_All right. So it takes less than a second for Smoker’s… smoke to reach me up here. Maybe if I throw up an ice shield as I depart, just to give him something to have to break through and slow him down, I’ll be able to get away._

A thought struck him suddenly and he gave a happy laugh that only confused his enemies more. “Wait wait wait. If you guys want to catch me… does that mean I have a _bounty_?”

It proved that Jack had been spending too much time with Ace and other crazy pirates when the news excited rather than distressed him. A wide smile grew across his face as he twisted out of the path of Smoker’s next attempted hit.

Ace would be so proud that Jack had gotten a bounty, maybe almost as proud as he had been when Luffy had received his first Wanted Poster. The Guardian did not know how he had earned a reward for his capture or death, but he had somehow pulled it off despite being— mostly— invisible _and_ from another world. Quite a feat, if one asked him.

“So do I have a cool nickname or what?” Jack asked hopefully. “Come on, you have to give me something to brag about!”

If Smoker ground his teeth any harder, they would crack. Tooth would be very upset if that happened, Jack supposed.

“‘Winter Spirit’ Jackson Overland Frost.” The Logia growled grudgingly. “Bounty: 150,000 Beri. You are wanted alive by the World Government for aiding and abetting pirates, kidnapping and attacking civilians, and having forbidden knowledge.”

Let it never be said that Jack Frost is unable to use his brain. Like a candle being blown out, the Guardian’s playful, teasing mood vanished halfway through Smoker’s first sentence. Jack stilled, expression going dark as he eyed the two Marines with rapidly cooling blue eyes.

“‘Overland’, huh? You… You _couldn’t_ know that name.” he said slowly, quietly. “Only three people here have heard that name, one is gone, and none of them would tell you. Actually, four people here would know, and I only _like_ three. Which means…” The Guardian kept his ice strictly under control, letting his power build up in his skin. “You wouldn’t happen to be trying to capture me for a creepy man called Pitch Black, would you?”

Smoker’s gaze betrayed nothing, but Tashigi’s showed surprise before she could cover it up. Jack did not smile, chuckle, or feel any pride when he spotted her slip up. Even as a part of him protested that there was no way that the Marines or the World Government or _whoever_ decided on such actions would ally with Pitch…

“You recognize _that_ name, too.” The Guardian said tonelessly. “I see. That changes everything.”

Ice and wind exploded out from him, throwing the two Marines back. A sweep of his staff froze their feet to the ground, and some well-placed ice blasts relieved them of their weapons. Jack grimaced and quickly sent ice shooting up over Smoker’s body, leaving only his head exposed. He could not bring himself to completely cover the man in ice, even though the Logia could detach his head or turn into smoke and break free if he really wanted to.

_Better not risk it._ “I feel obliged to tell you again that my ice is capable of wounding and killing Logia.” The Guardian warned quietly but firmly.

Smoker was shivering slightly, but the stern, unmoving look in his eyes told Jack it was from the cold, not fear. His dark eyes met Jack’s blue steadily. “So it _was_ you who attacked Fleet Admiral Sakazuki at Marineford.”

It took Jack a moment to recognize the name, and when he did it took all his effort to not let the ice freeze the two Marines any more than they already were.

“So that psychopath became the Fleet Admiral.” He snarled, barely able to contain his loathing. “You guys are doomed. If Pitch doesn’t kill you all, the magma bastard’s leadership certainly will. Speaking of which…” The Spirit of Winter pointed his staff directly at Smoker’s face. “Where is Pitch Black? Did you see him or were you only told about him?”

“As if we’d tell you.” The Logia replied stoically.

Jack pressed his lips together, anger, annoyance, and concern warring within him. His voice cracked with tension when he spoke. “Okay. Fine. Don’t tell me where he is. How about I give you some information then? I don’t know what Pitch promised or told you Marines, but he _cannot be trusted_. Where I’m from, he’s known as the ‘Nightmare King’. He’s a monster, a maniac, a _demon_ , and he’s killed more people than you can comprehend. When he gets what he wants from you, he will betray and kill you all!”

“Vice Admiral! Captain!” a voice called.

Jack turned, spotting eight men rushing towards them, weapons drawn. The Guardian eyed the rifles a few were carrying warily.

_If these guys can see me, will bullets hit me or not?_ The Spirit thought. _I don’t want to find out._

“Stay back, men!” Tashigi commanded instantly. “Frost is dangerous!”

“Frost?” one man asked, eyes roving the area near his two commanders in confusion. He blinked, eyes focusing on Jack, and gasped. “He’s here!”

The others spotted the Guardian as well, staring at him like they were noticing him for the first time. A few of their men pointed their guns at the Spirit, who reacted instinctively.

_Not chancing it,_ he thought, and blasted them away with a mixture of ice and snow.

A few flew back while the sturdier men kept their footing. The Wind buffeted at the Marines, pulling hats off of heads and guns out of hands. Another quick slash of his staff and some helpful ice on the ground from Jack threw the rest of them off their feet, and the Guardian frowned reluctantly.

He became acutely aware of how fragile these normal humans could be. Did any of them have Devil Fruits? Haki? Anything? An ice lance would run them through. A slip on the ice could break their skulls. They did not have a Devil Fruit eater’s vitality, a Haki user’s protection, or a Spirit’s endurance. These men were normal people just doing their _jobs_ for all he knew.

_They’re just cannon fodder. They don’t stand a chance. They may be Marines but… I don’t_ need _to hurt them. Smoker’s trapped, so they can’t pursue me._

But they were working for Pitch. They had come to an agreement with the Nightmare King, intending to capture his greatest enemy in exchange for who-knew what. The Marines— and World Government?— were doing the one thing that allowed Jack to discard the no-harming-humans rule and retaliate against them, to fight against the humans it was normally his obligation to protect.

This interaction with humans did not involve harmless pranks or little playful falls on the ice. It did not involve spreading fun and throwing snowballs at unsuspecting adults. This was fighting using Nature’s power, using Nature’s _wrath_.

And it had never felt more wrong.

Ice crept up the Marine goons’ shoes, causing a few to cry out in terror, but Jack halted it before it could encase more than their ankles. He hesitated, staff held aloft, but kept the freezing where it was, not letting it go further.

The Marines would easily be able to break themselves and their superiors out of the ice before their lives and health were threatened, but just in case the Guardian softened the ice just a little bit. Seeing the humans, wide-eyed, shivering, and afraid before him… Jack’s gut twisted as he remembered Pitch’s offer from so long ago.

For all his bemoaning about not being able to fight the Marines or World Government, now that he actually could…

_I didn’t want this._

“Remember what I said, Smoker.” He said hollowly to the Logia. “And tell the magma bastard or whichever _idiot_ thought it was a good idea to listen to the Nightmare King this: _Don’t_ trust Pitch Black. And don’t think you’ll be able to kill him when he betrays you.”

The Vice-Admiral studied the Guardian for a moment, eyes resting on the skull-like medallion on his chest. “That was Fire Fist’s hat.” He mentioned.

The Winter Spirit’s right fist clenched around his staff. “It still is.”

Without another word, Jack flew into the sky, leaving the Marines behind him.

He had a lot he needed to think about.


	7. Know Thy Enemy

Smoker watched as his men chipped away the ice that surrounded Tashigi, each movement careful and precise in order to not harm the frozen Captain. The rest of G-5 Unit 01 were already free of their frozen imprisonment, with only two suffering from frostbite on their ankles. It could have been much, much worse, but that fact did not help to lighten the Logia's mood.

There was no denying it. 'Winter Spirit' Jackson Overland Frost had utterly curb-stomped the Marines with an ease that showed just how dangerous he truly was. The Vice Admiral, Captain, and G-5 unit had all fallen to Frost in mere seconds, incapacitated almost instantly by their supposedly easy target.

But the Winter Spirit's prowess and power was not what bothered Smoker. His utterly unfitting and laughably low bounty was.

One hundred fifty thousand Beri was an infant's bounty, a tiny reward, unnoticeable among the masses and absolutely minuscule when compared to those of the New World and even most in East Blue. Bounties such as that were reserved for the lowest of threats and the most incompetent of criminals, and yet Frost was the one who had beaten back now-Fleet Admiral Sakazuki at Marineford. Frost had fought expertly with ice, snow, and wind, in a way that told of years spent honing his abilities. Frost had beaten Smoker— a Logia and high-ranked Marine— and his unit with absolutely no difficulty, as if the Marines were not even close to being a threat to him.

The facts did not add up. Why would such a low bounty be requested for such a powerful, formidable individual? Then again, it had not been the Marines who had decided on the number…

Smoker's scowl deepened as his thoughts turned to the one who had told the World Government about Jack Frost. Pitch Black; an enigma, a supposed ally, and— according to the one he hunted— a monster who had slaughtered more people than the Logia could comprehend. Through his brief interactions with Black, it was not difficult for Smoker to believe Frost's claims.

It was only through chance that Smoker even knew about the shadowy, grey-skinned 'man'. His unit had been in Marine headquarters, intent on receiving the report on their latest target— who had turned out to be Frost— when Tashigi had almost literally run into Black. A move that— in hindsight— was too coincidental to be anything but planned on their 'ally's' part.

Smoker did not know exactly why the so-called 'Nightmare King' had decided to show himself to him and Tashigi, but he would rather not have anything to do with Pitch Black. The way those yellow eyes had stared at Smoker, as if they were seeing into his soul with the anticipation of tearing it apart, had disquieted the Logia in a way he thought nothing could.

Not even the allegedly genuine and friendly way Black had introduced himself and explained why he was at the headquarters had lessened Smoker's unease. Their ally's voice was velvety, calm, and smooth, each word spoken openly and politely, but his tone reminded the Logia of a spider inviting flies to its web.

There was no doubt in Smoker's mind that Black was using the Marines for his own ends. Had the enigmatic man approached Unit 01 merely because they were one of the many teams hunting down the Winter Spirit, or had Black known for certain that he and Tashigi would be the ones to run into Frost?

Frost had not reacted with genuine hostility until after it was confirmed Pitch Black was involved with the Marines. However, once he knew they were allied with the Nightmare King… the Spirit actually  _attacked_. No more playful banter, no more cheerful evasions, no more childish laughter. He had gone straight for the capture— luckily not the kill. Was that why Black introduced himself, so that Frost would know they were working with him and strike with the fury of a blizzard?

Smoker had heard of Devil Fruit users that could control Nature, but the extent of Jack Frost's powers went far beyond what he thought was possible. The Marines had been woefully unprepared, and if Frost weren't so hesitant and— dare Smoker say it—  _kindhearted_ , they would all be dead.

Smoker had long ago grown used to seeing more than what the higher ups wanted him too. He had learned there were always ulterior motives and hidden agendas in almost all of his missions, and so had gained the habit of seeking out reasons for the actions of his superiors in order to be ready for when everything spiraled out of control.

There was only one reason Pitch would want such a low bounty for Jack that Smoker could think of. He wanted normal people— Marines and bounty hunters who did not stand a chance against such a foe— to attempt to capture the Winter Spirit. Black wanted them to fail utterly, despite his request that the Marines capture Frost, which meant that he truly did not want his capture at all. Smoker could picture the countless attacks the Winter Spirit would face, the constant barrage of unprepared mundanes, and eventually that great power he so carefully used would get out of his control and…

Did Black want Frost to  _kill_  the Marines that went after him?

The thought disturbed Smoker, though not as much as it should. Deep down, he was unsurprised by Black's possible motives. He would attempt to pass on the Winter Spirit's warning about the Nightmare King, but he doubted it would be heard. Black had promised the World Government something in exchange for their services, and Smoker knew it was important enough for them to ignore the blatant threat in their midst.

And as seen time and again, the higher ups were also unwilling to admit when they were wrong. Being told their new ally likely wanted them all dead would only cause them to grip onto the alliance more stubbornly and refuse to believe they had been deceived instead of doing the smart thing and calling off their arrangement with the Nightmare King.

It was obvious to Smoker that Pitch Black was an expert manipulator, and the Marines were dancing on the ends of his strings.

Quite frankly, the Logia trusted Frost more than Black at this point. That would not stop him from demanding Frost's bounty be raised accordingly as soon as possible, but only his orders kept him from leaving the Winter Spirit be and confronting Black right now. Which led Smoker's thoughts to the other part of his report, a part that he was most definitely  _not_  looking forward to handing in.

No, not 'hand in', per se. The information he had gained would not be a part of his official dispatch to Headquarters. The possibility was too fantastical, too impossible, for anyone to take it seriously, but Smoker had just faced a young man who could control the weather in a way not even Devil Fruit users were capable of, and had seen enough impossible things to have a more open mind. He could not disregard the chance that what Frost had claimed was true.

Still… how did one inform Garp the Fist that his oldest grandson might be alive?

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace lay on the hard, cold ground, staring blankly at the clear blue sky above. He was unable to move as blood dripped from the giant hole in his torso, pooling around his body like a sticky, warm blanket. Pain washed over him in a wave, blocking out nearly everything else, but the fire-user could not cry out, no matter how much he wanted to.

He was burning. He was bleeding. It hurt. Had Akainu attacked him again? Was Luffy okay? Luffy had to be okay. Where was his little brother?

As if he had been summoned by Ace's thoughts, his brother leaned into his field of vision, tears in his eyes. The fire-user could not even shift his gaze to look at Luffy— To apologize, to let him know it would be all right— only able to stare unblinkingly at the sky.

Whitebeard stepped up beside Luffy, placing a gentle hand on the Straw Hat Pirate's head. "I'm sorry, boy. He's gone."

_No, I'm not!_  Ace screamed mentally.  _I'm still alive!_

His wound ached and bled as he continued to lay there, suffering silently. He could just see the other Whitebeard Pirates gather around him, some openly sobbing while others stared stoically into space with tears running down their cheeks.

Luffy continued to weep next to his immobile brother, rubbing at his eyes as he looked at the Yonko. "We… We need to bury him."

"You're right." Whitebeard said gently. "It's only fitting that we give a funeral for the one who was born to die."

Oyaji lifted him gently in his arms, but the action gave Ace no comfort.

He blinked and suddenly he was being lowered into a simple wooden coffin. The fire-user managed to move his eyes, looking straight at Luffy, and his brother smirked, saying nothing as the wooden cover snapped shut, blocking the sky from view. Ace heard the sounds of shovels digging into dirt beside him and fought harder against his paralysis. He tried to scream, to shout, to do anything to tell his family he was still living, but couldn't.

He could only lay there, paralyzed, as his family buried him alive.

The moment the coffin was moved into the grave, Ace's immobility faded. He burst into motion, pushing desperately at the lid that was mere inches from his face.

Ace did not fear death. Be it his own nature or the Will of D within him, the fire-user was unafraid of his life ending. But he had always thought he would die protecting the people he loved or in battle, or even of old age if he was unnaturally lucky enough. Not buried while still breathing by his family, slowly losing oxygen as he met a slow, painful, but unremarkable demise.

_Not like this. Not like this._ _**Not like this** _ _._

"Help!" he shouted as loud as he could, because surely Luffy and the others were still there and could hear him. "Luffy! I'm alive!  _Help me!_ "

No one answered his pleas. Ace tried not to panic as he clawed at the wooden lid of the coffin, the small space closing in around him. He could already feel the air growing stale.

"H-Help…" Ace choked, sucking in precious dwindling oxygen.

There was a loud cracking noise above him and something trickled onto his face. The fire-user stiffened, recognizing the gritty feeling of dirt as it made contact with his skin. No longer able to hold back his panic, Ace screamed, scrabbling at the dirt that flowed into the coffin.

Soon enough it covered his face, his desperately groping hands finding nothing but earth. It filled his nose and mouth, forcing its way down his throat and burning his lungs. His cries became nothing more than feeble choking sounds, and the blackness seemed to grow darker.

In the distance, he heard Luffy laughing.

_This can't be real_ , Ace thought as his head swam and it became impossible to breathe.

Lungs aching, body jerking frantically, the fire-user's hands fell limp at his sides as his energy left him. He was suffocating, alone and afraid in the dark as his brother laughed above his grave, listening and doing nothing as Ace died in agony.

Tears trailed down the fire-user's cheeks, making dirty streaks down his face as it melded with the earth.

_It's not real. It's not real. Its. Not. Real!_

Ace jerked awake in his cell.

The fire-user gasped, putting a hand to his burning throat and coughing harshly. The dull greys and blacks of his unwanted place of residence swam into view and he sighed, rubbing at his forehead. Ace realized what he had just done and looked at his unbound hands in surprise. His wrists were raw and chaffed, blood trickling out of his skin due to the constant strain put on them, and he flexed his fingers experimentally.

Further inspection of his surroundings revealed his ankles were still restrained, the manacles attached to a chain that led to the wall. Ace allowed his thoughts to linger on his freed hands, wondering why Pitch would partially release him.

_Unless I'm in another nightmare_ , the fire-user thought.

If he wasn't in a nightmare, he needed to make use of his now usable limbs. Maybe if he still had some of his lock picking tools…

Ace shuddered as he felt the black sand slither further along in his skin. If the cold and slight pain that was beginning to accompany the poison was any indication, it was up his back and almost completely down his left leg by now. It had surprisingly avoided his altered Whitebeard tattoo and the center of his chest, based on the lingering warmth in those sections of skin. Ace wondered if the evasion was symbolic or a threat. After all, the heart was probably the last thing to be corrupted, right?

The Summer Spirit rolled onto his side, shivering violently. He felt as if he were ill, chills raking through his tired, lethargic body. It was like he had a mix of the flu and a bad injury where he'd lost too much blood, the feeling inching towards a state that was too similar to how it felt when he died for Ace to ignore his growing unease any longer.

He closed his eyes for a second and when they opened again Pitch was standing in front of him. The fire-user flinched before quickly letting his expression fall into a scowl.

The Nightmare King smirked. "Boo. Did I scare you?"

"Go away." Ace said flatly.

His voice sounded scratchy and soft, and he realized that he had not actually spoken aloud— other than to scream, possibly— in… how long had he been here? The fire-user tried not to freak out when he realized he did not know how many days he had been in the Nightmare King's  _tender_  care.

One of Pitch's elegant eyebrows rose. "What? No insults? No cursing? No oaths?"

"Just leave me alone, Pitch." The fire-user whispered, too exhausted to deal with the Spirit of Fear.

"Oh, are you tired?" the shadowy Spirit asked, almost sounding concerned. "I decided to let you out of those handcuffs because you'd be able to sleep easier. You do need the rest."

"Oh, yeah. I've just been having the most peaceful naps ever since I got here." Ace snarled.

For a moment he saw a blood-covered Luffy staring at him from the corner of the room with fear in his eyes. His little brother opened his mouth, and blood dripped down his chin in a stream. Ace blinked and the illusion vanished.

"I think I might be able to help you rest easier." The Nightmare King said with equal sarcasm. "I've been watching your brother. He's been doing just fine… except for the nightmares of course. He sees your death nearly every night. It's so…  _sad_." The last word was spoken with elegance and gleeful sarcasm. Pitch's eyes lit up, and his smirk grew cruel. "Maybe I should go meet him. Introduce myself. He has enough fear inside him that he would most definitely turn into a Fearling."

Fear swept through Ace, and he could practically see the Nightmare King bask in it. The fire-user felt the emotion transform into the always-lingering anger and he leapt to his feet, straining against the chains that kept him close to the wall.

"Go near him and I'll  _destroy_  you!"

"How?" Pitch asked incredulously, gesturing at Ace's disheveled, weakened, and captured state. "You're my prisoner. You have no power. You can't escape. Tell me,  _how_  would you stop me if I decided to hunt down your dearest little brother and kill him  _right now_?"

Ace's fists clenched and he swung a punch at the air, despite knowing the blow would never hit. To his and Pitch's surprise, flames sputtered briefly around his hand before going out, only strong enough to send a burst of harmless heat at the Nightmare King's face.

Pitch backed up a step, eyeing the Summer Spirit neutrally. "So you still have some fire in you. I don't know whether I'm impressed or annoyed."

For his part, Ace felt no different after expelling the unexpected flames. He did not feel warmer or as if his powers were returning, but he did not feel more exhausted either. He tried to summon anger to breathe life into his fire again, but naturally his emotions were not easily controlled, and nothing happened.

Ace wobbled unsteadily, becoming aware of how tired his legs were. How long had it been since he had actually stood up? He refused to sit down again, unwilling to show weakness even though Pitch was definitely aware it was there. The fire-user desperately wanted to punch the knowing smirk off the Nightmare King's face.

"Speaking of your precious sibling, I just think it's so ironic how so many of your fears involve your family turning against you." Pitch commented as if Ace's little fire burst had not happened.

_I know_ , the fire-user thought bitterly.  _But I also know that would never actually happen. I just need to_ _ **keep**_ _remembering that._

"My brother would never betray me or cause me harm." Ace stated with conviction, throat starting to ache the more he spoke.

The Nightmare King's visage darkened. "Your faith in him is misplaced. Family will betray you as readily as anyone else."

Maybe Luffy's stupidity had infected Ace somehow, because the filter between his brain and mouth vanished. "Just because Emily Jane abandoned you, doesn't mean other people's families would."

In that moment, Ace was certain that this was where his immortal life would end.

Pitch lunged for him, fingers wrapping around the fire-user's throat as he lifted Ace fully off the ground. The Spirit of Fear slammed him into the wall and held him there securely, pointing a black spear at his jugular. Enraged yellow eyes glared at Ace, revealing an unstable darkness lurking within, and the Nightmare King  _growled_  threateningly.

" _Don't say her name._ " Pitch hissed like a venomous snake, shadows flaring angrily around him and murderous madness in his gaze.

Ace did not dare to speak— did not know if he could in his current position— merely meeting the crazed— sorrowful?— eyes of his captor. He was not strong enough to push the Nightmare King away before he could stab him, and felt helplessness rush though him, leaving him feeling more pathetic than ever.

He felt so cold.

_What a great warrior the Summer Spirit is, not even bothering to fight his enemy anymore!_  The ever-present voice sneered at him.  _Look upon him and see a defeated man who's nothing more than a coward. What's the matter? Where's your bravado? Are you finally afraid of death, or are you so broken you won't even fight to live anymore?_

_Shut up_ , Ace thought.

Pitch smirked, calming as he enjoyed the forlorn look on the fire-user's face. He pulled his spear away and let Ace fall to the ground. The Summer Spirit stayed on his hands and knees, breathing heavily, his throat burning worse than ever as he forced his lungs to take in air. The fire-user ignored the voice, ignored the cold, ignored the growing hopelessness in his heart, and met the Nightmare King's gaze once more.

"You look tired." Pitch repeated mockingly, but with a dark undertone. "How about I tell you a bedtime story to help you sleep?"

Ace said nothing, but the Spirit of Fear began his tale anyway.

"Once upon a time there was a man named Kozmotis Pitchner. He was the  _hero_  of the Golden Age, tasked with capturing and guarding the terrible Fearlings that threatened the prosperity of the galaxies. One day, he was doing his duty, standing guard outside the door that contained the vile creatures… when he heard his daughter scream from within the prison."

The Nightmare King's voice lowered. "Desperate, afraid, he opened the door, and the Fearlings  _devoured_  him, taking over his body and warping his soul. He was transformed into the Nightmare King, the enemy of goodness and light, losing himself to darkness and fear all because he was tricked into believing his poor daughter was in danger."

"For years, the Nightmare King wreaked havoc upon the cosmos, committing genocide and other atrocities, until he was captured and contained. He was released again,  _obviously_ , and went on to menace the little blue planet that the last Lunanoff Prince had decided to guard. He could have destroyed the Earth like so many others, could have torn it apart by tipping the fragile balance of Nature in his favor, achieving such a feat by killing the one who controlled it. But do you know why he didn't?"

Ace remained silent, and Pitch continued without prompting.

"Because the one chosen to be Mother Nature, the one given the task of keeping the Seasons in sync, was none other than his daughter. I don't know if she got her powers naturally, or if she was given them, but those manipulative  _bastards_  knew that if they wanted to keep the power of Nature out of the Nightmare King's hands, it had to be in the hands of the one person he would never attack. Still, the Nightmare King approached his daughter, hoping to have her at his side, wishing to fight alongside the only good thing left in his life…"

"…Instead she abandoned him. Betrayed him. Left him to be defeated by the Guardians after claiming that she no longer loved him, that he was no longer her  _father_." Pitch's voice shook, whether from grief or rage, Ace did not know. "The last light in the Nightmare King's life abandoned him, and the last sliver of good inside him  _died_."

The Spirit of Fear's eyes focused on the Summer Spirit, fury burning in his gaze. " _Never_  believe that family will stay by your side. Never believe that they will always love you, no matter what you become. Loyalty is an illusion, and love  _never_ lasts forever."

"I don't believe that." Ace said firmly, thinking of his little brother and letting memories warm his heart. "I also don't think your daughter betrayed you. She refused to work with who you are now, but did what the person you used to be would have wanted. She chose to protect the Earth."

"She did it to  _spite_  me," Pitch snarled. "She even went so far as to take preemptive measures and put a kill-switch in her Seasons so none of them could become my Fearling Heirs."

"Or maybe she did it so none of us could become possessed prisoners like you." Ace murmured.

Pitch faltered slightly before his features smoothed out. "You  _are_  an unobservant one, aren't you? Didn't you just hear what I said? Mother Nature—"

"—Did something so the Seasonal Spirits would die instead of becoming Fearlings, I know." The fire-user replied calmly. "But I  _won't_  let myself reach that point, and your daughter doesn't sound like the type to kill someone she thinks can be saved."

Dull flame-colored eyes met eclipsed yellow orbs, and Pitch looked away first.

"No one can beat fear." He said quietly, almost resignedly, turning away from the Spirit and walking towards the door.

"Maybe. But if anyone can find a way, it's with their family's help. I think she still loves you, deep down." Ace called after him, thinking about Luffy's joyful smile. "You can't just erase the love you feel for your most precious people." His thoughts drifted to Whitebeard and his lips quirked upward. "Especially the love for your father."

Pitch's fists clenched and he stalked into the shadows without another word, leaving the Summer Spirit alone. Ace exhaled slowly, feeling his eyes droop, and shook his head to clear it and wake himself up. He had a lot to think about, with the stories he heard from Jack and Pitch melding together as they attempted to coexist.

The fire-user looked down at his freed hands, flexing his fingers, and glanced around the empty cave. Once he was reasonably certain Pitch was not lingering in the shadows, he took off his left boot, checking for the lock picks he kept there. Naturally, his tools were gone, confiscated by his captor. Ace put his boot back on and grabbed the chain that hooked him to the wall, pulling at it irritably. It rattled obnoxiously but did not give an inch, causing the Summer Spirit to sigh.

_So much for that plan_ , he thought as he laid down on the cold stone floor.

A very Jack-like thought was creeping its way into his mind, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, Ace found himself willing to try the idea. Pitch had a weakness, a chip in his armor that revealed a sliver of humanity that was concealed by malice and darkness. The fire-user was not naïve enough to think that he could make the Nightmare King change or let him go— and Ace wasn't exactly the type to try— but if he could get Pitch to give in just a little, to hesitate just a tiny bit, it might be worth it.

At the very least Ace could try to keep Pitch off-balance enough to increase his own chances of surviving the nightmares. The fire-user settled more comfortably on his side, closing his eyes as he considered the new possibilities…

…And jerked awake in his cell.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack had no idea where he was anymore.

The island he had retreated to was yet another Winter Island, so using that as a gauge to attempt to guess his location was pointless. Well, the island having a naturally cold climate might not actually be true. The panicked expressions on the bikini and shorts-clad natives suggested the place was meant to be a bit warmer.

"Sorry." The Winter Spirit murmured, hoping no one was caught out in the snowstorm.

He could practically hear Ace teasing him about his lack of control and trying his best to lighten the mood. The weather worsened as Jack thought of his missing friend, the fire-user's absence even more potent in the unnatural winter wonderland.

The Guardian's self-appointed mission to find Ace was a fool's errand, with little chance of success. This world was too big, with too many places for Pitch to hide. Having the Marines hunting Jack— and somehow being able to see him— was only making his impossible task more difficult. The Winter Spirit never thought there would be a time where he would  _want_  to be invisible.

Which brought him back to the main source of his grim mood.

_I could have killed those Marines so easily,_  Jack thought.  _Some of them could get hypothermia if they don't get out of my ice fast enough._

Jack looked around him at the snowy island, gaze drifting over the tall mountains, beaches, and palm trees that were being covered with white.

_So this_ _ **is**_ _meant to be some type of tropical island. Oops_.

His Wind stayed close as mundane wind that was-yet-wasn't under his control rushed around them, sending the last remnants of bewildered and terrified inhabitants running to their homes.

_Mother Nature would blow a gasket if I pulled something like this back on Earth_. Jack mused.  _It's just... The Marines have allied with Pitch. I have every right to fight them because they're working with a genocidal Dark Spirit, but I never actually wanted to be able to fight humans. To kill them. What happens if I face someone who is ready and actually stands a chance, like an Admiral? What if I can't freeze them harmlessly and run away? Can I actually kill someone intentionally?_

The snow fell harder, and Jack sighed, curling up and gripping his hair in frustration.

_Pitch is probably just going to keep sending Marines after me like cannon fodder. I thought the bastard would find me himself, but instead he's sending humans. Does he realize I don't want to kill them? Is murdering someone actually a fear of mine? Or is he trying to make the Guardians seem like bad guys? Why would he do that?_

He could not think of a reason for Pitch's actions, and as he sat alone in the chilly snowfield, his mind inevitably returned to his absent, fiery companion. The Guardian of Fun groaned and stood up, feeling the Wind ruffle his hair and clothes.

_I feel so useless. I can mess with the natural climate of an island but I can't do anything to save the world. I can't find Pitch. I can't find his Nightmares. I can't find Ace. What good is fun and snowstorms when they can't help me find my friend?_

**BOOM!**

Fire burst into the sky, an explosion of orange and red stretching over the mountain peaks. The flare was easily visible against the white and grey backdrop of the snowy mountains, and the Guardian could feel the heat wafting off the blaze even from his position miles away. He flinched, stumbling back and shielding his eyes against the brightness, before he lowered his arms and gaped at the fire.

"Ace?!" Jack gasped.

The flames vanished as quickly as they appeared, grey and white dominating the sky once more.

The Guardian was already moving. "Let's go, Wind!"

He leapt into the air, the Wind catching him easily as they flew towards the source of the fire. The Wind dragged more than carried the Guardian, just as excited as the Winter Spirit to find Ace. It was so eager, in fact, that Jack hit the side of the mountain instead of flying over it.

The Guardian yelped and cursed as he tumbled down the steep, rocky slope. He barely kept a hold of his staff, clutching it tightly and jerking it out of harm's way so it would not snap as he fell. The Wind picked him up once more, apologizing profusely.

"It's okay." Jack said hurriedly, ignoring the pain from his unexpected descent. "Go, just go!"

He flew upward and safely over the mountains, his eyes immediately zeroing in on two colored humanoid shapes that stood out sharply against the snow. Disappointment rushed through Jack when he recognized neither person— they  _weren't_  Ace— but his unhappiness was swept away nearly instantaneously when he studied the situation more closely.

First, he noticed that both humans were unconscious and tied up.

Second, he saw the bodies of several Marines scattered around the area, their blood splattered on the snow.

Third, he spotted ten Nightmares stalking casually towards the helpless survivors, knowing they had no chance to escape.

Jack dove into action. As the Nightmares closed in, the Guardian of Fun landed before them, standing protectively in front of the two surviving humans.

"Hi." He greeted one Nightmare, before blasting it with ice.

The snow fell heavily around him as the other Nightmares screeched and lunged, but a casual sweep of his staff froze half of them while the Wind forced the rest backwards. Adrenaline thrummed through Jack's veins and he attacked the horse-like creatures with gusto, letting out his frustration with every blow.

It might have been because he was already in his element and there were no shadows for the Nightmares to escape through, but Pitch's minions went down in seconds, hardly a challenge for the fuming ice-user.

The one-sided battle was over quickly, and Jack merely stood in the snow for a minute, breathing harshly out of repressed anger more than exertion. He belatedly realized he should have let one Nightmare live to try to follow it. But that would mean leaving these people. Jack sighed, lowering his staff, and turned back to the humans he had managed to rescue. He did a double take and cursed.

"Manny blast it!"

Urgency in his steps, the Winter Spirit ran to the humans' sides, barely able to see them under the snow that had covered their still frames. Desperately, Jack dug them out, biting his lip in worry when he saw the blue tinge to their skin. He could see enough of the pair to know one was male and the other was likely female, but any distinguishing features and colors had been hidden by the snow that latched onto their clothes and hair.

"No no no no no no  _no_!" Jack groaned, gritting his teeth and looking around frantically. "Dammit. I am  _not_  killing two people because I had a hissy fit!"

The storm was not letting up any time soon, and the Spirit was uncertain that he could carry them to safety. Strength wasn't an issue, but not dragging their already chilled— and possibly injured— frames through the icy snow was.

Jack made an irked sound and paused, glancing at the bodies of the Marines. They were almost buried by the snow by now, and the Guardian felt a glimmer of guilt. They may be Marines, but no one deserved to be killed by Nightmares like that.

He took a breath, silently apologizing to the men.  _I have to save the ones that are still alive. I'm sorry._

Quickly, he took a few of the Marines' coats, haphazardly tying them together to make an odd, large sling. Not wasting any time, he put the two humans on the makeshift carrier, pulling them a few feet to make sure it would stay together. The Guardian noticed a weird-shaped lump near where the man's head had lain. Guessing it may be something he owned and would want later, he picked up the covered object and tucked it under his arm.

"Wind, do you see a cave or a house anywhere?" Jack asked urgently.

The Wind hastily replied that there was an abandoned vacation home less than a quarter-mile down the mountain.

Jack nodded jerkily. "Good. Help me carry them, okay?"

With him pulling and the Wind pushing, they made their way towards the residence. Jack glanced behind him frequently, relieved when each view revealed the man and woman were still breathing.

When he reached the house, he did not hesitate to kick the door open, the plank of wood splintering slightly as it was forced past the security lock. It was a nice place, if a little dusty, and Jack guessed that it belonged to someone rich who only came yearly. The Guardian dismissed his unimportant thoughts and hauled his passengers inside. The Wind slammed the door shut behind them before retreating to make sure it did not cause more discomfort to the mortals.

Jack dropped the now-dripping object he had grabbed from the snow on the floor when he spotted a large fireplace and some wood. He glanced at his icy hands and touched a piece, watching angrily as it frosted over.

"Dammit." He whispered, for what seemed like the thousandth time.

The Guardian abandoned the idea of making a fire, turning back to his charges. Being inside the house had already helped melt enough of the snow that he could see some of their features now. The woman had orange hair and was wearing a red hat and pink shirt. Her companion had blonde hair, a scar on his face, a black tailcoat and a blue shirt with a white frilly thing— a cravat. Jack blinked and glanced at the peered object he had grabbed, realizing it was a top hat.

For some reason, his heart clenched.

The blue top hat, the blonde hair, the tailcoat, the cravat…

_He looks like… Stop that. Don't go there._

The Guardian pushed away his unhappy thoughts and busied himself by running around the house and grabbing as many blankets as possible. He would prefer new clothes for the humans— awkwardness or not, he knew better than anyone the dangers of having wet clothes in icy weather— but to his surprise there were none in any of the bedrooms or closets. So blankets would have to do for now.

Jack untied his two charges and lifted up the worse-off woman. He wrapped her in a few of the blankets he found before setting her on the nice couch that was situated in the center of the room. He turned to the man, gaze zeroing in on the familiar cuffs around his wrists.

_A Devil Fruit user? Does that mean he was the one who made the fire…?_ The Guardian stilled, comprehension dawning as to what that meant.

Jack did not know how to feel. The flames that he had seen earlier had probably come from the man, perhaps during a fight with the Marines. That meant it was likely this man had Ace's Devil Fruit, the Mera Mera no Mi. At least he was not a Marine, seeing as how he had been captured by them and all. But he was not someone Ace knew either.

The Guardian wanted to be upset about it, or angry. He really did. Someone else having Ace's old power seemed  _wrong_. Jack should be furious, jealous, hurt,  _enraged_  that some other human had dared to eat the fruit that had once been Ace's, but something about the blonde was so  _familiar_ … Or maybe the Winter Spirit was feeling more forgiving than he normally would just because the man looked a bit like Sabo.

Thinking about the deceased young boy did not help Jack's dour mood.

The storm continued to rage outside, and a few flakes fluttered around the Winter Spirit. The Guardian blinked in confusion, wondering if a window was open, before realizing he was making it snow inside the building, too. The humans continued to shiver, unconsciously shrinking away from the frigid air.

"Sorry. I can only keep you cold." Jack mumbled bitterly, distressed.

He paused, eyes landing on the man again.  _If this guy really does have Ace's fruit, that means he's a Fire Logia._

He grabbed the seastone cuffs by their manacles, letting them frost over. A careful squeeze later and they shattered, the cuffs turned fragile and unable to withstand the pressure due to the ice. Color instantly returned to the man's cheeks and his breathing evened out. Flames flickered over his body and Jack leapt back as the heat touched his skin.

"Keep doing that." He told the man, even though he knew he couldn't hear him.

The Guardian ran to the fireplace, snatching up a long piece of wood and holding it over the flames.

"Come on,  _come on…_ " he mumbled, praying it would light.

To his delight, the wood caught, and the ice-user quickly put it back in the fireplace before retreating hastily. Poking at the fire would only cause him to put it out. He considered wrapping up the man in blankets then, but decided to leave him be when he noticed the man was still ablaze, charring the rug but luckily not catching it on fire.

But even with his distance from the fireplace and the Logia's powers, the cold in the air caused by the Winter Spirit's presence prevented the room from heating up. Jack had been near fires before and had not had this problem, so he knew why. He needed to calm down and rein in his control.

"Please be okay by yourselves for a little bit." He said to the humans, before diving out the window.

The sky was a dark, threatening grey and the wind howled loudly as it rushed over the mountains, carrying snow through the air and not caring about the island it was not meant to exist on. As the Guardian observed, the blizzard became a whiteout, everything but whiteness fading from sight.

The temperature had to be far in the negatives by now, dangerous and deadly to any humans that risked coming out into the storm. This was especially true since they would be unprepared to deal with such frigid weather. Jack looked at the monstrosity he had unintentionally created and clenched his hand around his staff.

_I really messed up_ , the Guardian thought.  _All because I let my emotions— my powers— get out of hand. That's such a rookie mistake. If I had done this in Bunny's Warren or something, he'd kill me. Tooth would give me a harsh lecture too, at minimum. North probably wouldn't mind at his place but…_

Thinking of the Guardian of Wonder brought up memories of the North Pole, snow falling outside while warmth and wonder reigned supreme within. Wonder like the kind that had been represented by a nesting doll…

Jack was an idiot. Calming himself would not help him dismiss the storm. Calm wasn't his center.  _Fun_  was.

The Guardian flew up into the air and let himself fall, laughing as his element rushed around him. He caught himself before he hit the ground, drifting like a snowflake and letting the winds carry him through the sky. He did not worry about Ace, or Pitch, or the Marines, or even the humans he had left behind.

Jack twisted as he soared through the clouds, doing flips and tumbling like an acrobat. He raced up above the clouds and looked down, the endless sea of grey reminding him of a fluffy blanket. Laughing, he descended once more, letting himself gain speed as the snow swirled around him.

The Guardian felt his worries drift away as he played in the storm that was not a threat, but a friend. He was a Nature Spirit, and this was his creation. Ice and snow was not something to hate or fear. It was meant to be played in, to be used for fun. That was why he, a playful trickster, had been chosen to represent the season of cold and frost.

He just needed to remember that.

The snowstorm lightened, heavy, large snowfall becoming soft, tiny flakes. Soon after, the clouds drifted away, and heat began to slowly return to the area. As the Guardian hopefully watched, the snow began to melt before his eyes.

Jack grinned triumphantly and flew back to the vacation home at top speed, diving through the window with practiced ease and skidding to a halt in the center of the room. To his surprise, the man was stirring, flames flickering over his body and blackening the floor further. The Guardian decided it was a miracle the house had not caught on fire and burned to the ground while he was gone.

The Winter Spirit observed silently as the man opened blue orbs, looking around in befuddled bewilderment at his surroundings. His gaze landed on Jack and he flinched, mouth falling open and eyes going round.

Jack looked back at him, just as stunned.  _And yet another person can see me, apparently._  "Uh. Hey there. Friend." He said awkwardly.

_I am_ great _at talking to people,_  Jack thought sarcastically, recalling the bewildered rambler he had been reduced to when Jamie had first seen him.

The man continued to gape.

_Well of course he's gaping. I don't exactly look human, do I? Not to mention I'm causing it to snow a bit again. Indoors. And I'm frosting the floor. I should try to stop—_

"Jack Frost?" the blonde-haired man interrupted his thoughts, voice betraying his shock. Then a smile appeared on his face as his eyes filled with unshed tears. "It's really you."

The man stood up and hugged him, making the Guardian stiffen. Jack's preconceptions and beliefs fell down around him as he looked over the man's shoulder at the blue top hat on the floor, the familiarity and joy in which the 'stranger' acted erasing any lingering doubts he had about his identity.

"S-Sabo?"


	8. Losing Hope

Garp the Fist stared silently at the not-quite-legal report he had received a few days ago, looking at the letters written on the page without actually seeing them. He knew what the missive said word for word, having read the message from Vice Admiral Smoker many times before, yet he still did not know what to think.

When he had first received the information, his foremost instinct had been to seek out Smoker and show him just how painful the Fist of Love could be. Luckily for the Logia, reason had actually shown up to quell Garp's rage, informing him that Smoker was not the type to joke about such a thing. And yet the Vice Admiral's claim was impossible. It could not be true.

How could Portgas D. Ace, his grandson, still be among the living?

Garp let his gaze drift over the familiar message once more, mouthing the words as he absorbed them for the hundredth time.

" _'Fire Fist' Portgas D. Ace may be alive. The exact circumstances surrounding his survival and his whereabouts are unknown, and how I have come to learn of this information is classified. Do what you will with this intel."_

The letter was short, cryptic, and secretive, and if Sengoku were still Fleet Admiral, Garp would have stormed into his office and demanded to know everything by now, covertness and clearance be damned. But Sengoku was no longer Fleet Admiral. Sakazuki was, and there was no way in hell that Garp was going to let that bastard catch wind that the grandson he murdered might still be breathing.

This left Garp with a dilemma. He was not a Vice Admiral anymore. He was an instructor. He was still respected and held some superiority— and would enthusiastically put anyone who claimed otherwise in their place— but he did not have the same pull he once did. For the first time since his retirement, Garp regretted vacating his previously held position. Beating sense into upstart recruits was rewarding, but he needed information. Even worse, he needed information  _clandestinely_.

Garp hated doing anything in a clandestine manner. He would rather be out in the open and breaking through his opposition with brute force. But he could not do that now. Not this time, when Ace's life was on the line. He could not lose his grandson again.

Memories of Ace's tragic, brutal demise crept to the forefront of Garp's mind, flashbacks of burning flesh, crimson blood, and anguished words flickering through his consciousness. The Marine almost crushed the poor paper in his large fist, crinkling it so tightly he was surprised when it did not turn to dust in his hands. He grimaced and threw the report in the fireplace, watching it burn up and vanish without a trace.

_Perhaps I_ _ **am**_ _a sentimental old fool_ , the Fist mused.  _I have no proof for myself to show that Ace is out there, but I already believe he is._

He turned on his heel, leaving his office with large, stiff strides.  _Either way, I think it's time for me to request an overdue vacation._   _And if I happen to run into Vice Admiral Smoker while on holiday, well, that's just a coincidence._

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and the few Marines he passed in the hallway were quick to scurry out of his path.  _But if Ace is alive, why hasn't he shown himself? Why hasn't he told his loving Grandfather? Could he be in trouble? Could he still be captured somewhere…?_  A dark thought came to Garp and something close to disgust trickled down his spine as a foreboding snarl distorted his face.  _If it turns out the Marines have been keeping my grandson prisoner… Sengoku won't be there to hold me back this time._

The thought was traitorous at best, but Garp did not care. He had already failed his grandson once. He was  _not_  going to let Ace die again.

_Ace isn't a criminal. He is family. I should have realized that sooner, and done more to save him. I will not make the same mistakes I did before,_  Garp vowed.  _That won't stop me from giving him my Fist of Love when I find him. Damn that brat for making me worry! I'll have to increase his training time to make sure he will not fall again._

Garp grinned widely and any Marines in his vicinity fled in fear. They did not know who the target was of the dreaded, crazy smile the instructor wore, but they could not help but feel bad for them.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Inside of an abandoned vacation home, twenty-three year-old man and immortal Winter Spirit stared at each other in silence for the longest time, both unable to believe who exactly they were seeing. Then Jack began to laugh out loud, even as weeping threatened to join his uncontrollable mirth.

"Sabo. You're alive. You're actually…"

The Guardian could not help himself. He flew forward, hugging the blonde tightly once more, and reaffirmed that Sabo really was solid and there and real and  _alive_. He could feel the lost boy's heart pounding calmly in his chest, steady and strong, providing even more proof that the Spirit was not imagining things and Sabo was right there, in front of him, among the living.

"You're alive…  _You're alive_ …" Jack found himself repeating. He choked on another undignified sob. "We thought you had  _died_."

Sabo's arms tightened around the Guardian and he spoke quietly. "I know. I'm sorry. I lost my memory after my ship was blown up by the Celestial Dragon. I was found by Dragon— the leader of the Revolutionaries— and became one of them, unaware of where I came from for years. When I saw the news article about Ace's death… everything came back." He gave a hollow, joyless chuckle. "I almost thought you were imaginary, but then I read about the snowstorm in Marineford and I knew you were as real as everything else I remembered."

Jack stiffened and pulled away from the Revolutionary, biting his lip. "Uh… About that—"

"Sabo, who are you talking to?"

The orange-haired woman was awake. She stood, still wrapped in the blanket, and scanned the area in which Jack stood, eyes not focusing on the Guardian's position. Her expression was etched with concern as she witnessed her comrade speaking to and holding what appeared to be thin air, and Jack had to repress an amused snort.

The blonde-haired Revolutionary exchanged glances with Jack and sighed. "Of course she can't see you. Jack, this is Koala, my partner. Koala… you need to  _believe_  what I am about to tell you. There is an eighteen year-old boy standing next to me. His name is Jack Frost. I need you to picture him as I describe him, okay?"

The orange-haired woman looked at her partner with confusion, while Sabo stared back determinedly. The blonde gestured at Jack, who chuckled openly at the continuously bewildered expression on Koala's face as she attempted to see who he was pointing at.

"He is wearing a blue hoodie and brown pants, and is holding a wooden staff. His hair is white, spiky, and short. His eyes are bright blue, and his skin is almost as pale as snow. He is a little shorter than I am. Picture him standing next to me. Imagine him. See him in your mind.  _Believe_  that he is here."

Jack recognized the persuasive tone of voice Sabo was using as the same one Ace used when he was trying to make the then ten year-old blonde believe in the Guardian. Before he could sink into bittersweet nostalgia, Koala inhaled sharply, eyes going round. Her sharp azure orbs met the Winter Spirit's icy blue and Jack instinctively smiled and waved.

"Hi."

Koala made a sound that was an amusing mix of a cat screeching and a mouse's startled squeak. She continued to make the hilarious noise, and Jack found it harder and harder not to burst out laughing. Her partner smiled ruefully and ignored Koala's distress, picking up his precious top hat off the floor and placing it on his head.

"I think we broke her." Jack informed Sabo, who turned red at the reminder of his own reaction to the Winter Spirit.

Koala found her voice before the blonde Revolutionary could respond. "Wh— How? He was—  _How?_ "

Sabo shifted his weight and repositioned his top hat with a sheepish air. "Jack's another one of my friends from childhood. He's also the Spirit of Winter from another planet that was accidentally sent here more than twenty years ago."

Koala stared at Jack for a bit longer before looking at her partner. She blinked. "Okay then." She said rather calmly, taking the new information in stride. Then her eyes narrowed. "You never told me about him."

Sabo raised an eyebrow, unintimidated by her dangerous expression. "Would you have believed me?" His face brightened abruptly and he turned to Jack, practically oozing eagerness. "Speaking of belief, how have things been with Luffy? He didn't mention you last time I saw him, but I thought that might be because we were in front of people who wouldn't understand, or he thought I didn't remember you."

The Guardian's mood soured and he crossed his arms over his chest, gripping his elbows tightly as he turned slightly away from the Revolutionary. "Luffy stopped believing in me after you 'died'." Jack said in a clipped voice, hiding his hurt behind an apathetic façade.

_And it's starting to snow inside again,_ he noted, staring at the falling flakes moodily. _Aaaaannnnd now the floor is an ice rink. Dammit._

Sabo's blue eyes softened with compassion and guilt. "I'm sorry. You've been all alone."

Without warning, he hugged the Winter Spirit again, gripping him tightly as if he would vanish if the Revolutionary let go. The blonde's body trembled, shaking them both, and it took the feeling of wetness on his shoulder for Jack to realize that the top hat-wearing man was crying.

"I'm sorry." Sabo choked. "I'm s-sorry I wasn't t-there to save h-him."

Comprehension dawned and Jack pulled away from the Revolutionary, grabbing his face and forcing him to meet his eyes. "Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault that you weren't there at Marineford." The Spirit said firmly. "You didn't remember Ace, and for all you know, you being there could have made things worse. Do you honestly think Luffy would have been able to focus if he found out you were alive while in battle?"

Sabo winced at the thought as he recalled Luffy's tearful, clingy reaction to his return. "Probably not. But I—"

"You can't change the past." Jack interrupted bluntly. "What happened, happened. It's done. But… Well…"  _Dammit. I wanted to ease into this_ , the Winter Spirit thought. He took a breath and spoke in a rush. "Ace is alive. He  _did_  die at Marineford, but the Man in the Moon and Mother Nature made him into the Spirit of Summer."

The look that came to Sabo's cerulean eyes made him appear to be years younger than his actual age, reminding Jack even more of the ten year-old he thought had been killed. The Revolutionary blinked, nodding slowly, but his breathing grew louder and faster as his skin turned an unhealthy white. To the Guardian, it looked as if Sabo were doing his best not to hyperventilate, his entire body trembling distressingly. Flames licked at his shoulders, flaring and writhing, as if the Logia were barely keeping the literal firestorm within him contained.

Jack tensed and let his grip on his staff tighten, fully prepared to protect himself and Koala if Sabo lost control and exploded. The orange-haired woman lingered at her partner's side, hands fluttering uselessly in the air as she debated between trying to comfort Sabo, darting to a safe distance, or preparing to catch him if he collapsed. The blonde Revolutionary's blue eyes grew shiny as his body shook harder, and for a moment Jack thought the man truly was going to faint.

"Ace is alive?" Sabo whispered in a strangled voice.

His hope looked so fragile, so easily broken, that Jack could only nod in confirmation, fearing that any other action would cause Sabo to go over the edge into unconsciousness or hysteria.

"You wouldn't joke about this." Sabo breathed. "You wouldn't— He's actually—"

Like a sun breaking through the clouds, a toothy smile crossed Sabo's face and he laughed, a pure, hearty sound that brought warmth to Jack's chest. "He's alive! Ace is  _alive_!"

Sabo hugged Koala and Jack, knocking their heads together and ignoring the woman's half-hearted protests as he lifted them both off the ground. He spun around in a deliriously happy circle, dancing like a fool as he continued to laugh with unadulterated joy.

The Guardian of Fun chuckled out loud with him— even as he winced in the man's strong grip— while Koala smiled softly despite her discomfort. The Revolutionary eventually let go of his relieved partner and the Winter Spirit, looking at Jack with ecstatic eyes.

"Where is Ace? Is he nearby? Has he revealed himself to Luffy yet?" He asked rapidly.

Sabo's grin faltered as his eyes drifted to the familiar orange cowboy hat on Jack's back.

"You have his hat." He said flatly, merriness fading as fear darkened his gaze.

The Guardian grimaced, his euphoria draining away with Sabo's own. "Ace was captured by Pitch Black." Jack revealed bitterly, self-hatred ringing in his tone.

Koala's visage grew confused once more, and even the blonde Revolutionary did not understand the implications of the Guardian's statement at first. Jack saw the moment when Sabo recognized the name, and the young man's complexion paled several shades, an unbridled terror creeping onto his face that Jack despised.

"Pitch Black? As in the Spirit of Fear? The Nightmare King? The World Destroyer?  _That_  Pitch?" Sabo demanded, horror and anger lowering the timbre of his voice.

"Yes." Jack admitted grimly. "Pitch somehow got to this world and has been causing havoc. He's been building an army and allied with the Marines."

"Sabo and I were sent here to find out what happened to the civilians in a town on this island." Koala interjected, much more invested now that the conversation had to do with their mission. "More than two hundred people have vanished, gone without a trace. We thought the World Government might be kidnapping civilians for slavery or experimentation. Are you saying this 'Pitch' character is the one responsible?"

"Yeah." Jack grunted, mood darkening further. "Manipulative bastard. I don't understand why he needs the Marines though. He's never had a problem finding and mocking me by himself before."

Rather than comment on Pitch's uncanny tracking abilities and apparent loss of them, Sabo focused on the Nightmare King's alliance with the Revolutionaries' enemies. "It's doubtful that the World Government knows that Pitch is amassing an army." The blonde-haired man analyzed thoughtfully. "They'd try to stop him if they realized he threatened their power."

Koala scoffed. "With our luck, they'll try to blame pirates or us for the disappearances."

The three freedom-loving people scowled almost simultaneously at the thought of innocents becoming scapegoats.

"Stupid bigots." The Guardian muttered under his breath. "Someone should kick them off their thrones."

"That's what the Revolutionaries are trying to do. Want to join?" Sabo asked, only half-joking.

Jack shook his head. "Nah. Being in one organization is enough for me. Besides, I'd never follow orders." The Guardian's teasing mood faded and he looked between the two Revolutionaries. "I  _would_  be willing to work with you guys though. I'm betting that you have a lot of spies in the Marines, and maybe they can help me find Ace."

Any flippancy seemed to drain from Sabo and he released a shuddering puff of air. "That's right. Ace is alive. He's been captured again."

The Revolutionary spoke as if he were reminding himself of that fact, and his blue eyes widened with panic as his mind drifted away from the 'big-picture' mindset of a freedom fighter and the brother within him fully realized what he had been told. Sabo grabbed Jack's shoulders again, a terrible, frightened look on his face.

"Was Ace hurt when he was captured? Is there a chance he could escape on his own? Is he still weakened by seastone? Pitch won't kill him, right?"

Jack wiggled out of Sabo's grasp as flames started to flicker around the blonde's fingers, the frost on his shoulders thickening to ward off the heat. The Revolutionary jerked away on his own, remorse flashing through his expression, but the Guardian spoke before he could apologize again.

"No, Pitch wouldn't go through the trouble of capturing Ace just to kill him." The Winter Spirit said stiffly, trying to delay answering the first question. "Ace isn't weakened by seastone anymore because he's a Spirit. As for escaping… I don't think he'll be able to alone."

Jack dragged his gaze to the window, where snow was once again beginning to fall on the normally tropical island, and thus avoided meeting Sabo's worried eyes. The window was getting covered by jagged frost.

"Ace was wounded by Pitch in our fight with him. He got slashed by one of Pitch's black sand blades." His voice came out in a low, guilty whisper, audibly distraught as he gave the news. "I don't know what it does exactly, but if it acts anything like Sandy's dream sand, it could keep Ace from waking up."  _Or worse._

Sabo was quiet as he tried to remember every story Jack had told him about Pitch and his powers. The strained, frantic look that came into his eyes kept both the Guardian and Koala from interrupting his silent recollection, and both watched mutely as his hands clenched into fiery fists and his jaw locked minutely.

"I… I see." The Revolutionary said at last before clearing his throat. "Well, we'll just have to find Ace soon then. We shouldn't waste any more time." He adjusted his hat again, pushing it down over his eyes much like Ace and Luffy often did before entering a battle.

Jack blinked. "What?"

Anxiety faded away and Sabo gave him a look that told the Guardian that he had missed something embarrassingly obvious. "You don't honestly think we're just going to go on our merry way and let you find my brother without us, do you?" The man asked incredulously.

"I— Well—" Jack stammered, shame rushing through him as he realized that was exactly what he had been thinking. The possibility that the two Revolutionaries would want to accompany him on his search had not even crossed his mind.

_Ace has other people that care about him_ , the Spirit slowly understood _. I guess I never actually thought that other people would believe that he had been resurrected as a Spirit, and would be willing to help. I spent so long being unseen— not believed in— by people, I thought Ace would be the same. But his circumstances are different. I—_ _ **We're**_ _— not alone in this._  The thought brought a glowing smile to his face.

"What about our mission?" Koala asked, albeit reluctantly. "We can't just run off to find your brother."

"We were sent here to find out what happened to those villagers. Pitch happened, so the next step is finding him— and by extension, Ace." Sabo said smoothly, but with a slight hard edge that forbade any disagreement. "I'm sure Dragon will understand."

Koala drooped visibly and gave a sigh, rolling her eyes. "I'm not going to argue with you. Let's just report to Dragon  _before_  we vanish this time, okay?"

The familiar, blinding smile Sabo gave her made the heavy weight in Jack's chest— that had been present since Ace's capture— lighten, and suddenly, his mission did not seem to be so impossible. The Revolutionary turned to the Guardian, determination in his gaze.

"Let's go find our brother."

ROTGOPROTGOP

The Moby Dick was burning.

Ace stood on the flaming ship, watching in horror as his crewmates— his brothers and sisters— ran across the deck, screaming and shouting as fire consumed their home. Beside them was another ignited vessel, the other ship too damaged to be recognized, nothing more than a flaming wreck that sank slowly into the sea. The fire-user stumbled back as the mast went up like kindling, flames devouring the wood as easily as small twigs. He felt the heat from the blaze, but unlike everyone else, it did not harm him. It was almost… comforting.

A hand grabbed Ace's arm and he was spun forcibly, the only other person who was immune to the flames holding his arms in a vice-like grip. Marco's blue eyes were wide with desperation and fear as he looked at Ace, azure flames coating the Phoenix protectively and keeping him from burning alive.

"Ace, stop!" Marco shouted pleadingly, voice barely audible over the roaring fire. "You're better than this, yoi!"

It took a moment, but the fire-user realized his brother thought  _he_  was the one destroying their home.

"W-What are you talking about?" Ace stammered, hurt that the Phoenix could think he was capable of doing such a thing. "I'm not d-doing this!"

He flinched as the mast fell over, nearly hitting Izo. The Sixteenth Division Commander scrambled out of the way just in time, the edge of his kimono blackening before he put the small flame that had ignited on it out. Others were not so lucky, and were either crushed or thrown into the sea.

"You're out of control, yoi. You're  _hurting_  our family." Marco said brokenly, sounding more sad than angry.

"It's  _not_  me." Ace insisted, stomach twisting uncomfortably at the distraught look on his friend's face. "Don't worry. I'll fix it!"

Ash and smoke clouded the air around them, making both Devil Fruit eaters cough. Ace brushed the soot away from his eyes and glared at the gluttonous flames angrily. He  _was_  fire. It was  _his_  to control. He could take in the flames, tear them away from the vulnerable wood, make them  _stop_  destroying his home.

Ace lifted his right hand, fingers outstretched, and called the fire to him, ordering it away from the ship it so eagerly consumed.

The fire ignored his command, instead growing stronger, fiercer. Marco was forced to dodge as pieces of glowing wood rained down upon him. The Phoenix grunted in pain as the broken end of a board sliced his cheek, the wound healing almost instantly in a burst of blue healing fire.

"What are you doing? Put it out!" Marco yelled.

"I-I can't! It's not working!" Ace cried.

His panic fed the flames, the orange burning brighter and closer to a deadly blue, and the ship below groaned painfully under the stress. The fire-user saw a few of his crewmates jump desperately from the deck into the ocean, most disappearing under the waves without resurfacing.

He felt ill. They were in the Grand Line. Every sailor worth his salt knew that you could not simply swim in the Sea King infested waters here.

Beside Ace, Marco gave a small, broken laugh. The younger pirate met the Phoenix's sad blue eyes while the man stood there quietly, as if all of the will to fight had drained from him. Marco's tears evaporated from the heat the moment they formed, unable to even run down his cheeks.

"You honestly thought something like this would never happen, didn't you?" he asked hollowly. "You thought that by becoming fire, no one you loved would ever have to fear it again. Well guess what? Now they don't fear fire, yoi. They fear  _you_."

The flames parted, revealing the center of the deck, and Ace's already hurting heart felt as if it were being stabbed with a knife. Two small, familiar figures stood in the center of the blaze, clinging to each other and looking around them with terror.

The blonde-haired boy was missing his top hat, the accessory most likely destroyed by the inferno, while the dark-haired boy clung to his greatest treasure protectively, warding off the flames as best he could and crying as they attempted to take his precious straw hat from him.

"Ace! Why are you doing this?" ten year-old Sabo asked fearfully, trying to drag seven year-old Luffy away from the blaze.

"I-I'm not." Ace denied. "I can't control them!"

He reached for his brothers, and the flames followed the movement, burning tendrils stroking their arms. Luffy gave a terrified scream, and Sabo cried out.

"Stay away!" the blonde boy screeched, attempting to protect their little brother with his coat.

"Sabo? Why is Ace mad at us?" Luffy sobbed. "Why is Ace hurting us?"

The fire-user stumbled back, both in an attempt to keep the fire off of them and in reaction to his little brother's words. The ship— Moby Dick? Going Merry? Another vessel?— was almost completely incinerated, large burning planks falling into the water below. An ominous creaking noise could be heard above the flames, and Ace realized the ship was about to break under the stress.

Gritting his teeth, he stepped towards his brothers again, only for the fire to mimic his movements once more. Sabo was forced to discard his tailcoat as it began to smolder, quickly catching alight and turning into ashes.

" _Stooooooopppppppp_!" Luffy howled, burying his face in Sabo's chest.

"Stay back!" the blonde boy snarled, tears making tracks through the ashes on his face. "You're doing this on purpose. You're not our brother. You n-never wanted brothers. You never cared about us. You really are a monster.  _Monster_!"

Ace flinched, feeling as if he'd been struck in the chest. The blaze reacted to his distress, doubling in size, and a loud crack snapped through the air. Demonic and uncaring, the fire consumed the remainder of the ship and everything on it, apathetic to the cries of the falling.

The fire-user could only watch as his little brothers burned alive before his eyes.

Ace inhaled sharply, feeling tears making their way down his cheeks. He sat quietly for a moment, breathing in the scent of musk and stale air that was a welcome relief when compared to the smell of burning flesh and scorched wood.

_Not real._  He silently chanted his new mantra.  _It wasn't._

He squinted in the darkness, taking in the sight of the soothing yet frustrating cell he had woken in, and bit his lip uncertainly.

_Am I actually awake this time?_

No one appeared out of nowhere to hate or blame him, no monsters rose up to tear him apart, and there were no bodies of his loved ones laying about, so he supposed he might be.

Ace gave a cursory check over his skin, watching detachedly as the black markings stretched down his calves. A glance at his left arm revealed that his ASCE tattoo was no longer discernible among the black lines the nightmare sand made.

The fire-user felt a pang off loss as he stared at the spot where the crossed out S normally resided, indecipherable among the mess. He could not help but feel as if he were tarnishing Sabo's memory by allowing the sand to make it so far.

_I got this tattoo to honor him, so he could be with me when I sailed for him… But look at me now. Imprisoned, regretful, alone… I'm such a joke._

The black vein-like marks mocked him by creeping further down his arm, reaching his hand.

_Tired. Cold. Don't sleep._

Ace tried to be optimistic. At least his Whitebeard tattoo, face, and the center of his chest were still clear. That meant he was still fighting. The fire-user felt some pride at the fact that he was still enduring, but it was overshadowed by the knowledge that he was slowly sinking towards his demise.

_Will I actually die if it corrupts my heart, or will I just go crazy?_  Ace thought idly, and instantly wished he had not.  _No. Don't think about that._

But all he could do  _was_  think.

And have nightmares.

Pitch had not visited him since he had stormed out after revealing his history, so Ace had been unable to implement any half-baked plots he had concocted to try to unbalance the Nightmare King. It had also been a while since he thought of ways to break out of here. At least, it might have been. Counting seconds was useless when most 'realities' he found himself in were dreams.

_It won't matter if you escape anyway_ , the voice whispered.  _The nightmares won't magically go away if you get out of here._

_I know_ , Ace replied.

_Shut up!_  He added as soon as he realized what he had done.

The fire-user began to play idly with his chains, making them jangle as he picked them up off the floor and dropped them repeatedly.

_Well aren't you being productive_ , the voice hissed.

_Shut. Up._

Ace was uncertain whether the voice was the black sand, Pitch himself, or his own mind tormenting him, but he knew that it was separate and wrong, so he was still okay, wasn't he?

_Tired. Cold. Don't sleep._

Adding to his misery was the constant pain in his side and stomach. He did not know if Pitch's sand was messing with him or his presumptions about immortality were wrong, but he felt  _hungry_. His insides felt hollow and twisted, with near-constant pangs ripping through his abdomen. It was the same ache in his gut that he had when he had first been trying to assassinate Whitebeard and refused the food the Whitebeard Pirates offered, believing it to be poisoned.

He and Jack had been unable to steal enough food for a normal person, so a big eater like Ace had soon found himself growing weaker and starving on the ship. It had taken an impromptu collapse, a frantic Jack, and a very insistent Thatch to get him to let his 'enemies' feed him, and for the rest of his days of stubborn refusal and afterward, he had never gone hungry. Not until Impel Down, anyway.

He thought he would never have to worry about a lack of food again.

_Maybe it's because my fire is out._  Ace mused.  _Or do Spirits actually_ _ **have**_ _to eat occasionally? Then how did Jack manage for all those years when he was alone?_

He had seen the Winter Spirit steal the random drumstick or cookie during the fire-user's human years, and had joined him in playful raids on bakeries and restaurants after he himself had become the Spirit of Summer, but did they truly  _need_  the food, unlike what Ace had assumed? The thought of Jack being alone and scared for hundreds of years, desperately searching for something to eat in a world he did not remember and where no one could see him, made the fire-user's stomach hurt even more, sympathy pangs accompanying his other aches.

_So cold._

"Well aren't you just cheerful this fine morning."

Ace looked up, meeting Pitch's yellow eyes as the Nightmare King stepped out of the shadows of his cell.

_Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?_ The fire-user thought, but did not voice.

His throat hurt, from a lack of talking or an overabundance of screaming he did not know, but he honestly no longer cared to speak with the Spirit of Fear. Pitch liked to get a reaction out of him, to see his fears and determination war for visibility on his face, so he stayed quiet, ignoring the Nightmare King as best he could like he was another illusion.

At the same time, he was proud to say that he was not broken enough that even his thoughts were silenced.

"I do miss our conversations." Pitch lamented. "You insulting me and acting all brave, me tearing down your walls and threatening your brother… Well, at least you're conscious this time."

Ace just kept staring at him.  _I really think I hate you,_  he thought, a small spark lighting in his dull orange eyes.  _Screw redemption and your sob story. When I get out of here, you're going down._

"Still nothing to say?" The Nightmare King sighed, even as he noted the glimmer in the fire-user's glare. "Despite what you think, I cannot read minds. Only see nightmares and fears."

_Good to know,_  Ace mused mockingly, a slow sneer forming on his face.

Pitch eyed him thoughtfully. "You are quite the enigma. I can't decide whether you are being defiant or are slowly losing your mind. Well, I have some news that I thought might interest you. I've been told that your dear friend Jack is looking for you. Isn't that wonderful?"

Ace stayed unimpressed and the Nightmare King scoffed.

"Fine. Maybe you'll be happy to hear about this, then. I've allied with your 'World Government'. They're hunting Jack right now. He ran into a group of twenty men and  _killed them all_  because they would not tell him your location. How does that make you feel?"

The Summer Spirit tensed slightly, studying the Nightmare King's face for any signs of deception. Pitch's expression remained stoic and clear. Ace let his mind drift, trying to think of why he would tell the fire-user this 'information', or lie about such a thing. Maybe to make him feel guilty that he caused Jack to kill, or for the lives lost?

_They deserved it_ , the voice whispered.

_Of course they did_ , Ace thought back, and paused.

_The right answers were 'No, they didn't' or 'Maybe not',_ the voice murmured, pleased.

Ace leaned against the wall, hands gripping his biceps tightly as his arms pressed against his chest in a hollow imitation of a hug. Above him, Pitch chuckled, sounding eerily similar to the voice in his head.

"You really are a monster, aren't you? We're more similar than you think." Pitch said coolly. "I don't care about human lives and neither do you, apparently. Except for your 'precious people', correct? Everyone else could burn for all you care. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. That's a trait you share with your brother."

The fire-user was not stupid. He knew what Pitch would pull next. The Nightmare King loved to torment him with tales of Luffy's nightly terrors, intertwined with the threat of the Boogieman going to visit the Straw Hat Pirate himself.

Maybe it was the stress and exhaustion, maybe it was growing insanity, but Ace abruptly found it hard to give a damn about Pitch anymore, so he did the most logical— or was it idiotic?— thing he could think of.

_Screw it,_  Ace thought.

He casually took off his right boot, weighing it in his hand.

Pitch looked openly amused by the action. "Well done. You can take off your shoes by yourself. Now what are you going to—"

With a skill to be proud of, Ace aimed and threw. The boot hit the Nightmare King directly in the face, connecting with a loud  _thwack_. The fire-user's throat hurt too much to giggle, so he smirked mutely at the Spirit of Fear.

_Ha ha_ , he laughed mentally, even as Pitch angrily stormed up to him.

The Nightmare King did not grab or threaten him, to his surprise, only standing there and fuming. Either Ace's eyes were getting better at seeing in the dark, or a small bit of light had found its way into the lair, because he could see the dirt on the soles of the boot had left a partial imprint over Pitch's eye, nose, and cheek.

_That looks good on you. You should get it tattooed,_  the fire-user suggested silently.

"I hate you. So.  _Much_." Pitch hissed.

Ace just kept smirking. When he blinked, the Spirit of Fear was gone.

The Summer Spirit frowned down at his feet, pleased to see that his right foot was still shoeless. So Pitch had been real. Unless he was  _still_  in a dream. Ace ignored such pressing matters and wiggled his booted left foot back and forth, looking between it and the boot that lay outside his cell.

Ace shrugged and tore his remaining boot off, setting the shoe beside him. It was followed by both his socks, which the fire-user tugged experimentally. Maybe if he tied his socks together he could strangle Pitch with them. And his last boot could be used as ammunition!

Didn't he have a plan to exploit the weaknesses Pitch had shown him?

…He probably should have tried to unbalance Pitch again instead of antagonizing him. Oops.

_I'm going crazy_ , the still-sane part of him whispered.  _A lack of sleep, paranoia, and isolation can do that. Plus there's that damn sand._

Half the time, he was in pain and afraid. The other half, he was too tired or detached to care about anything, including his own well-being. It was an endless spiral, and even in his state of possible delirium, impeding insanity, and exhaustion he knew that the spiral was heading downwards fast. Eventually he was going to fall somewhere, and when he did…

_I don't know if I can do this much longer,_  the still-coherent piece of him murmured.  _I should be more afraid of Pitch, shouldn't I? Or should I be less afraid of the dreams? Or neither? Both? I'm so confused…_

He blinked and Luffy's corpse appeared in the corner, blood dripping thickly from the gaping wound in his chest. Ace stared at him blankly, tired, cold, and perplexed. But not distressed. Not afraid.

Odd, but the nightmares that took place in this cage were easier to spot than the ones that took place in other settings. Not that he meant the nightmares were actually in the cell— they were still in his brain, of course they were— Oh right, Luffy.

The fire-user leaned against the wall, observing distantly as a red pool spread around Not-his-little-brother's still carcass.

Ace knew for a fact that he was dreaming— he  _always_  knew he was dreaming— whenever he saw the bodies of his loved ones in the dungeon with him now. He did not know what caused him to realize reality was false in those instances, but somehow every time Luffy or Marco or Oyaji or Thatch's unmoving forms appeared while he was in his prison, Ace immediately knew they were hallucinations.

A dark part of him wondered if Pitch was doing this on purpose, preparing for something that would lead to fear and grief and guilt if Ace did not react appropriately. He had seen certain fears so many times, again and again, that he had become accustomed to them. The fire-user knew what was slowly happening, but could not stop it any more than he could remove the nightmare sand from his veins.

Because this was the three hundredth twenty-eighth time Ace had seen his brother's body in this cell.

It was the twelfth time he felt nothing.

Maybe he really was a monster.

ROTGOPROTGOP

When Bunnymund saw the Lights in the night sky, he immediately opened a rabbit hole to the North Pole and jumped in, popping out in the middle of a snowstorm. The Pooka shivered as the heavy snow froze his fur and quickly ran for North's Workshop on all fours, wincing each time his paws touched the ground.

"Cold. Cold.  _Cold_. I should've made a tunnel right inside. Bloody snow." He muttered.

He raced through the door that a helpful Yeti was holding open, sighing in relief as the Pole's heat began to warm his fur.

"Thanks, mate." Bunny said to North's helper.

The Yeti gave a garbled response, but the Pooka was already on his way to the Globe Room for the second time in a month. He nearly tripped over an elf in the doorway, but a harsh glare at the annoying little bugger sent it sprinting in the opposite direction as fast as its legs could carry it. Bunny huffed and strode into the Globe Room, ducking beneath a flying plane and standing beside Sandy. He shook off the lingering snow and shot North an irritated scowl.

The Guardian of Wonder did not seem to notice his companion's surly mood, beaming as he greeted the Pooka. "Bunny! Glad you could make it."

"Second time this month, North." Bunny said pointedly.

The Cossack shrugged unapologetically. "Manny needs to speak with us again." His smile dimmed and his voice lowered. "He sounded… urgent."

Bunny felt his ire trickling away as it was replaced by worry. The Man in the Moon did not wait for any of his Guardians to ask what he wanted, speaking in quick, jerky moonbeams that practically radiated guilt and distress. The words were clear as the bluest sky to Bunny, but for the life of him he wished that he was interpreting Tsar Lunar's message wrong.

" _The new Summer Spirit, Hiken D. Ace, was captured by Pitch Black more than a week ago. Jack escaped, but Pitch is hunting him."_  Was the Moon's dire news.

Toothiana made a small sound that may have been a gasp or sob. Any lingering joy in North's visage faded and he closed his eyes in grief. Even Sandy seemed to dim, glow fading and face paling as his eyes grew round.

The Moon apologized sorrowfully, and Bunny could practically see the guilt in the moonbeams. He explained that his vision in the other world had faded because of Pitch's presence, and he had not realized what had happened until it was far too late. By his estimate, Pitch had captured Ace more than  _two weeks ago_.

Bunny did not know how he felt. Horror and disgust tried to take hold of him but were blocked by an odd, numbing feeling that trickled from his ears to his toes. Vague, horrific memories tried to force their way to the front of his mind but he beat them back, breathing evenly as his left paw clenched into a fist.

He would never forget what happened to the last Spirit of Summer when Pitch had captured him. Mother Nature had been distraught for decades, rampaging through the hemispheres with no one able— or willing— to stop her, and the resulting imbalance in Nature had only made things harder for every other Spirit. Bunny had not been present for the Summer Spirit's demise, but he had heard tales of the horrors and torture that the lad had lost his life to.

To think that the new Summer Spirit, Ace, Firecracker, Jack's  _friend_  was going through that now…

"North, get a Snow Globe." Bunny said flatly. "We're going to the same world as Jack."

The Guardian of Wonder nodded grimly, reaching into his pocket, when more moonbeams made him pause and remove his hand from the teleportation device. The Man in the Moon told them to wait a moment, and quietly said that Sandy could not travel to the other world.

"But..." Tooth began, but trailed off as she looked at the Guardian of Dreams.

Sandy's frustration was visible on his face as he nodded in agreement with Manny's decision. Symbols appeared above his head, showing a rabbit, a man, a fairy, and himself. He sent the images through a wall of sand, and showed a sun and moon rising and falling repeatedly, signifying passing days.

On the unreachable side of the wall, evil faces began to appear, hovering over sad-looking children. When the Guardian's figures tried to go back to the other side, the wall stopped them, and eventually the evil faces overcame the kids, devouring them completely. Sandy let the images vanish, studying each of his companions with solemn eyes.

Protests died in Bunny's throat as he realized that the Guardian of Dreams was right. Sandman was required to ferry dreams  _every_  night, and unlike Toothiana, he worked alone. Many of those dreams also involved the other Guardians, which helped reinforce the children's belief in them. If Sandy left, it could cause children to stop believing in the Guardians again, which would not help anyone when they had to face Pitch.

From his place next to the Pooka, North focused on a different element of Sandy's charade show.

"The barrier that will keep us from returning will be a problem, but we cannot wait here any longer." The Guardian of Wonder declared. "Despite Bunny's insistence, we have a couple months until Easter and nearly a year until Christmas. We'll have time to figure things out if we get stuck. Jack needs us  _now_."

The colder part of Bunny wanted to protest that Easter was closer than North thought, but luckily the rest of him was kinder than that and knew stopping Pitch and helping Jack was more important than worrying about his holiday right now.

The Moon interrupted, talking once more in halting beams of moonlight, almost as if he were hesitant to speak. The Guardians looked up at the serene orb in the sky in surprise, uncertain that they had properly heard what Manny said.

"You know how we can get back?" Toothiana asked, shock clearly visible on her fair features. "I thought the world was completely blocked off."

The Moon gave an affirmative that he did indeed know how the Guardians could return, and gently asked them to listen to him just a little longer. Because it turned out he did know how they could travel back to Earth. It turned out he  _did_  know which world Jack had ended up on.

It had taken longer than it should have, but the Man in the Moon had realized exactly where Jack was, and was ashamed to admit he should have figured it out sooner. He had lived for so long, that the short time he had spent on that world had faded into the recesses of his memory, along with his fleeting interactions with some of its inhabitants not so long ago…

And so, with the attention of all four of his Guardians riveted on him, the Man in the Moon told them the truth.

ROTGOPROTGOP

The Summer Spirit was shivering so badly he looked like he was convulsing. Pitch stood in the shadows and watched as the fire-user trembled and shook, limbs jerking and body taut with pain and stress.

It would not be much longer now. The boy had lasted almost a month, but soon the sand would reach his heart, and his mind would snap. After that, Mother Nature's little kill-switch would activate, and her new Summer Spirit would die in an instant.

Looking upon the slowly fading Spirit, Pitch felt nothing but… loss.

A week ago he would have felt triumphant and gleeful as the Summer Spirit— Ace— died in agony, but now all he felt was that the boy's passing would be a waste. It was a shame. His strength was impressive, as was his will. Even as his flames were smothered, there was still a spark in his eyes. The Nightmare King found himself wishing that he had tried to convert the fire-user to his side, but the past was the past.

That did not stop him from feeling slight regret, however. All because of one stupid, ignorant comment made by the foolish boy.

" _I think she still loves you, deep down. You can't just erase the love you feel for your most precious people. Especially the love for your father."_

Pitch knew he longed for companionship. He knew it, and he despised himself for it. Jack's rejection of his offer more than twenty years ago had broken that desire for a time, but it had lingered in the back of his thoughts, the last traces of his humanity yearning for someone to care for his well-being, to acknowledge and be happy he existed.

More specifically, he wanted his daughter to love him again.

The side of him that was unrelentingly the Nightmare King scoffed at such sentimentality, but the other part of him, the one that was still capable of complex emotions like longing and love, wanted desperately to accept and see that dream come to fruition.

It did not help that the one who had reopened those ludicrous gates had so many of the same fears as Pitch.

They both feared being alone. They both feared being forgotten. They both feared their loved ones seeing them as monsters.

They both feared those same people leaving them.

Ace gave a sharp, pained gasp, curling into a fetal position as tears trickled down his cheeks. Pitch's hand jerked, reaching to comfort the boy, but he quickly pulled back before he could touch Ace, baring his teeth.

He had to remember why he was killing this Spirit of Summer, why he had targeted and slain the last one. The Spirit represented everything he hated. Fire, warmth, light, freedom. All those years ago, Ace's predecessor had been a toe-in for becoming a Guardian, news of meetings between Mother Nature and the Man in the Moon being reported to Pitch through his minions.

The Nightmare King had hunted down and killed the Summer Spirit immediately, testing out his recently-created black sand on the young immortal, and had thought the Spirit's death had been enough to warn his two greatest enemies not to try to make a Seasonal Spirit a Guardian again.

Two hundred years later, the Winter Spirit Jack Frost was born. Pitch had assumed he was merely a Seasonal Spirit, because how could someone representing cold, death, and ice be a candidate to become a Guardian? He had left Frost alone until it was too late, but even then he had tried to get the Winter Spirit on his side before attempting to kill him as well. Just like the Man in the Moon and Mother Nature had planned, he supposed.

If Jack Frost were at his mercy right now, being ravaged and ripped apart by his nightmare sand, he would be the happiest Spirit in the cosmos. As it was, he was in an odd state of… not remorse, but awareness of what he had potentially lost.

Pitch could not help but wonder, what would have happened if he and the fire-user had met under different circumstances, just as Ace and Pitch. No outside influences saying they were enemies, no people to attack or defend in turn on opposing sides, no vengeance getting in the way.

They were both told that they were monsters for existing. They had both been willing to sacrifice everything for those they loved. They had both died for others.

Pitch never thought he would have more in common with a Summer Spirit than a Winter one. Yes, he and Jack had similarities, of course, but that potential bond had long ago been severed when the soon-to-be Guardian had refused to come to his side. The Nightmare King knew that encounter had been the closest he'd ever gotten to gaining a true ally, but in the end Jack's morality won out.

Between choosing the world as a whole and choosing a friend, what would Ace have done?

Pitch supposed it did not matter. It was too late for what-ifs.

The Summer Spirit let loose a strangled, gurgling scream that was cut off by a sob. Pitch casually scanned his nightmare and winced. This time Ace was still a Spirit, and everyone he loved was walking through him. No one was able to see him. No one  _believed_  in him.

That hit close to home for Pitch, but he still did not approach the fire-user. He could not comfort him. The Nightmare King part of him was too strong, too gleeful, and too evil for that. Instead, the Nightmare King taunted Ace, tore open his fears, and mocked him, leaving Pitch as a silent observer.

The Boogieman began to wonder when a distinction had formed between Pitch and the Nightmare King.

Ace stopped shaking, falling limp on the ground, and Pitch dashed forward before he realized what he was doing. He checked the boy's pulse, and was relieved to feel a steady beat beneath his fingertips. Ace's skin was icy cold to the touch, startling even the Boogieman, and again he felt dissatisfaction.

_Such a waste of a potential ally_ , the Nightmare King mused irritably.

_I'm sorry_ , the other thought apologetically.

To his surprise the boy stirred, waking once more against all odds. Pitch bade a hasty retreat before he opened his eyes.

The further he got from his prisoner, the more his flickers of guilt and regret were forgotten. With the Summer Spirit out of sight and soon out of mind, the Nightmare King's thoughts turned away from what-ifs and could-have-beens, towards his future plans for the world. He had the Marines chasing down the Guardian of Fun, pinning the attacks and disappearances orchestrated by his Nightmares and Fearlings on the Winter Spirit.

Unlike with his old corruption techniques, which required careful manipulation for the more strong-willed souls, his black sand could infect and turn anyone with fear in their heart into Fearlings. As a result, his army of Nightmares and Fearlings were growing by the hundreds each day. Soon enough, he would be able to come into the open and bring this world into a Dark Age.

But first Frost needed to be found and disposed of. He had learned from his past mistakes, and knew a single Guardian could be enough to rally the humans and stop his plans in their tracks. The Nightmare King would not let that happen. Not this time.

Once this world fell, he would return to Earth with his legions at his back. Then the Man in the Moon would see how well his few protectors fared against hundreds of  _thousands_  of foes. Pitch could potentially see his armies even becoming believed in by the adults on Earth because of the undeniable amount of destruction they would cause, and wouldn't that be a sight to behold?

A Nightmare appeared out of the shadows, informing him that a ship was approaching the island. Pitch raised an eyebrow at the news.

The island his lair was hidden on was completely deserted. At least, if it had not been before his Nightmares and Fearlings had found it, it was now. Pitch did not want anyone— Marine, Revolutionary, or Pirate— to stumble upon his growing army. People who did that had the pesky habit of having one of their number escape somehow.

"Kill everyone on board." Pitch ordered dismissively. "Marine or Pirate, it doesn't matter. I will  _not_  let word of this place get out."

A horde of Nightmares and Fearlings eagerly rushed to obey, heading towards the blissfully ignorant vessel.

Blood would be spilled tonight.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace hummed vaguely, staring at his hands and the crimson that covered them. Luffy was dead again, for the… sixth hundredth time, maybe? The fire-user had lost count long ago.

Luffy's blood was splattered over the walls and Ace himself, and the monster that was his older brother was proud— disgusted— to say he felt nothing. The fire-user let out a strange giggle, before his breath hitched.

Ace childishly clapped his hands over his mouth and jerked them away just as quickly, barely holding back sobs. He knew it wasn't real, but his growing apathy to seeing Luffy die was only giving birth to another fear. Or, at least, it was heightening another insecurity that lurked in his mind.

"You bastard."

Ace recognized the voice that had spoken but did not look away from his bloodstained hands. They were shaking now. He could feel the cold, accusing eyes boring holes into his head but refused to meet them, flexing his fingers and curling them.

"You won't even look at me?" Sabo hissed. "You broke your promise, you  _monster_. Luffy just died and you felt  _nothing_!"

The fire-user stayed silent. There was no point in communicating with the Not-Sabo. No matter what he said, the illusion would hate him, yelling threats and screaming at him. It was best to let the dream run its course.

"Do you even care?" the blonde-haired boy asked shakily. "Luffy's g-gone."

His voice wavered, as if he were trying not to cry. His older brother remained detached.

_Not real. Not real. Not real._  Ace chanted silently.

Sabo gave a frustrated, anguished shout, voice taut with grief and rage. " _Say something, damn you!_ "

The metal pipe that his brother always carried connected with Ace's ribs and he flinched slightly, but gave no other reaction. This only angered Sabo— Not-Sabo— further, and his brother began to yell incoherently, striking every part of Ace he could.

The fire-user barely felt any of the blows, more than used to this type of nightmare by now. He did not know if Pitch's plan was backfiring and he was becoming immune to his own fears, or if something more sinister was wrong with him.

…Who was he kidding? Of course it was something sinister.

"How could I ever expect you to care for Luffy?" Sabo spat bitterly. "Demons don't care about anyone but themselves."

Ace practically mouthed the words with his brother, having heard them many times before from different people he thought might have loved him. He did not think that Sabo had ever said such things in reality, but was not entirely sure anymore.

_No. Sabo would never say that. That's the nightmares talking. I have to remember. My brothers don't hate me. Oyaji and the others tolerate me. People care about me?_

_Then why haven't they come for you yet?_ The voice whispered.

It took Ace far too long to remember the reason. What seemed like years of constant negative interactions and hateful comments from his loved ones were slowly getting to the fire-user, confusing and warping his thoughts and memories. He vaguely recalled Pitch mentioning something about losing memories, but prayed that was not the reason for his slow recollection.

_I'm a Spirit. My family doesn't know I'm alive. But Jack is coming for me. I know he'll come. I have to keep hoping._

Not-Sabo finally ran out of energy, breaking down crying in front of his dispassionate brother.

"How could you?" Sabo whispered, disappointment and disgust in his tone. "How could you fail so badly? I told you to protect him!"

_I'm sorry._  Ace thought hollowly, more out of habit than anything.

As if the nightmare realized it had no hold on him, it faded out, letting him regain consciousness in his cell. Pitch was there to greet him, his usual smirk on his face. Ace let his hand drift towards his remaining boot, but left it where it was. He did not have the energy or desire to throw his other shoe at the Nightmare King.

"Hello, Ace." Pitch greeted him calmly. "I thought I'd inform you of my progress."

Ace just stared dully at him, uninterested. He was so tired…

His eyes slid closed as Pitch continued to speak.

"My army is over three hundred thousand strong. I wiped out more than a few islands, including ones that had a flag similar to the skull tattoo on your back." The Nightmare King leaned forward, yellow eyes glinting. "Do you understand? I believe I may have killed a few of your comrades. How does that make you feel?"

The fire-user felt something hot flicker in his chest and he forced his eyes open, meeting Pitch's gaze.

The Nightmare King chuckled. "I see that got your attention. I don't have confirmation of course, but apparently there were a few— what are they called?— 'Whitebeard Pirates' present when my Fearlings attacked."

Ace tried to be angry, or upset, or worried, but all he felt was a void-like emptiness. He had seen his companions die so many times. Only hearing about their potential deaths was not enough to get a reaction out of him anymore.

_Monster. Monster._ _ **Monster**_ _._  The voice taunted.

Pitch sighed, shaking his head slowly. "A broken soul is no fun to play with. I guess I'll have to seek out someone new then. Starting now."

The fire-user did not reply, blinking lethargically. For a second, Ace thought he saw Luffy standing in the corner of the cell. He focused on the spot and his brother wavered before vanishing.

Pitch followed his gaze and chuckled, low and menacing. "I do believe you're cracking. That's what happens when you've been a prisoner for three years."

Ace stilled, staring at the Spirit with wide eyes before his gaze hardened. "Liar... 'asn't… been tha' long." The words hurt badly as they slowly ripped their way out of his aching throat, coming out distorted, raspy, and barely audible.

The Spirit of Fear gave him an amused smile, as if he knew something that the other did not. "How do you know? Between the nightmares and lack of way to tell time, how can you be sure?"

"Jack… would've foun' me… by now." Ace claimed hoarsely but with conviction.

Pitch's head tipped curiously. "Not your little brother? Surely he'd rush to rescue you. Then again, he thinks you're dead."

There was something odd about the Nightmare King's tone, an extra layer of malice and dramatization in his voice. It was almost like he was trying to exaggerate his evil, like he was trying to put on a show…

A splotch of red caught Ace's gaze and he met fearful dark eyes. Luffy was there. But he could not be there. Or maybe he could? Was this a dream or not? Was Ace awake or asleep?

The fire-user did not know. He tried to think of a time he could have fallen unconscious, tried to search for discrepancies in the world around him, but everything looked perfect, from the walls to Luffy's horrified expression.

"'re you real?" Ace found himself asking in a slurred voice, and immediately cursed himself for his stupidity.

His mind clicked and he identified the moment he must have fallen asleep. It had to have happened when he had closed his eyes for too long.

"Of course I'm real. Why do you always ask that, Ace?" Not-Luffy demanded, eying Pitch warily. "Who is this guy? Did he do this to you?"

_Yeah…_  Ace thought, but the fake could not hear him.

"What are you doing, Luffy?"

Pitch spoke, but the voice that came out of his mouth was not his. Instead, it was the high tones of Luffy's navigator, Nami. Both brothers looked at the Nightmare King, and for a moment it was like the fiery orange-haired thief's image was covering the Spirit's. Pitch put his hand on his hip, an odd position for him but a natural one for the thief.

"What did we tell you? You're stronger than these nightmares."

"Right. I'm dreaming. Okay then. What am I supposed to do?" Luffy asked casually, while Ace watched in silent confusion.

'Nami' gave her Captain a stern look. " _Make_  Ace go away. You don't need him anymore. He's not real."

Luffy brightened instantly. "Yeah! That's right." He turned to his brother. "You're not real." He informed Ace. "You're dead."

Ace slowly began to realize what type of nightmare this must be. It was one where Luffy did not believe in him. Of course. The fire-user was about to relax when Pitch vanished, appearing directly behind his little brother. Ace jolted upright, trying to stand but failing.

"Lu, behind you!" he cried out in warning.

Luffy turned and looked up at the Nightmare King calmly. "It's fine, Dream-Ace. None of this is real. Ace is dead."

"Oh really?" Pitch said silkily, face half-hidden by shadow. "If you say so. I'll admit I am highly disappointed. Your brother has been calling for help all this time, and you've done absolutely nothing."

"Ace is  _dead_." Luffy repeated flatly. "This is a dream."

The Nightmare King chuckled. "Is it? Then why don't I—" He blinked, yellow eyes going distant, before a cruel smirk crossed his face. "Oh dear. So you're the ones who found my island. How about I give you some information so you believe this is  _very_  real, then?"

"In twenty minutes, your ship is going to be attacked by my Fearlings and Nightmares." Pitch revealed. "They're the 'mystery monsters' or whatever you call them. I planned on keeping you here a little longer so we could have a friendly chat about your brother and I could give a… demonstration, but I don't want you sleeping through the attack. A pity. I just started to work with you and you're already going to be corrupted or killed. Oh well. Have fun."

Luffy vanished, leaving behind a smirking Pitch and a bewildered Ace.

The Nightmare King turned to the fire-user. "As for you, I guess I'll have to find another nightmare to entertain you for now. Don't worry. If my minions do kill your brother, I'll make sure they bring the body. Maybe then you'll actually feel something."

The world shook.

Ace snapped awake in his empty cell, just in time for the ground to shake once more. Dust fell from the ceiling and the fire-user looked up warily. He hoped it was not an earthquake. The memories of his nightmares of being buried alive were still fresh in his mind, and he would rather not repeat the experience. Another tremor rocked the earth, accompanied by a loud boom.

" _Ace!_  Ace, where are you?"

The Summer Spirit's breath hitched as he recognized the voice. "Jack…" he croaked, barely able to hear his own words.

There was a crash and another boom, and with a blast of icy air the Winter Spirit dashed into view. He scanned the area and looked through the cell bars, blue eyes widening with shock, before a happy grin crossed his face.

"I found you." Jack said, voice shaking with emotion. His joy vanished and was replaced by a serious look. "Let's get you out of here. This place is crawling with Nightmares."

Ace nodded mutely, tears of relief stinging at his eyes. Jack was finally here. He was going to be set free. The Guardian touched his staff to the metal bars and froze them before striking them hard. The weakened metal shattered on impact, and Jack stepped into the cell. He gave a small gasp as he saw Ace's condition.

"Ace… Those markings…"

"I know." The Summer Spirit whispered.

Jack struggled to keep his dismay and fear off his face. He stepped forward and gently froze the manacles around the fire-user's ankles. Even with the Winter Spirit's caution, the ice still stung Ace's skin and he held back a wince.

"Sorry." Jack apologized and quickly broke the chains.

Ace looked at his freed feet in shock, wiggling his toes, before returning his gaze to the Guardian.

The Winter Spirit shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, even as he carefully grabbed his arm. "Come on. Let's ditch this place."

The fire-user resisted his pull for a moment, instead wrapping his arms around Jack and hugging him as tightly as he could. "You came." Ace whispered, smile almost too wide for his face. "You really came."

Jack returned his embrace readily, arms cold against Ace's skin. But it was a nice cold. A comforting cold. Not like the black sand.

"Of course I came." The Guardian murmured. "I won't leave you." He pulled back, expression soft. "Come on. I'll help you walk."

Ace sniffled— He was  _not_  crying, dammit!— and nodded. He accepting Jack's offered arm, leaning wearily on the Winter Spirit as they slowly made their way out of the dungeon. The Guardian kept his staff held aloft in his other hand, the tip glowing slightly with frost to hold back some of the darkness.

The fire-user's legs hurt and burned with every step but he did not care. He paid little attention to his surroundings, instead taking in Jack's calm, pale face. He was just so glad that the Guardian had finally found him. Ace also felt slightly ashamed that he had begun to doubt that his brother was going to rescue him.

Jack noticed his inspection. "Do I have something on my face?"

"I'm so happy you came." Ace mumbled. "I thought I was going to die here."

As he spoke the words aloud, a chill went through his frame. He gritted his teeth and focused on the warm-alive iciness of Jack's grip instead of the empty-dead iciness ripping through his body. The Guardian saw him shudder and frowned, brow furrowing in concern.

He turned, grasping both of Ace's upper arms. "You're not going to die here. Not now, not ever. That sand won't beat you. I won't allow it."

The Summer Spirit gave a hollow laugh as he stepped out of the Guardian's grasp, gesturing at his body. "I'm not sure you'll have a choice. This isn't going to go away."

"You're right about that." A new voice agreed.

Ace and Jack looked up, spotting a figure in the shadows. He was too bulky to be Pitch, yet no matter how hard the fire-user tried, he could not discern any of the man's features as he stayed out of the light, face hidden by darkness.

"North?" Jack gasped, an elated grin appearing on his face. "How did you get here? When?"

"That doesn't matter." The Guardian of Wonder said. "Step away from the Fearling, Jack."

Ace tensed, and Jack pushed the Summer Spirit behind him, staff held in both hands. "Ace isn't a Fearling. He's a Seasonal Spirit. He can't be turned."

"That doesn't mean he's not a threat, Frostbite." Another accented voice claimed.

The Seasonal Spirits' heads turned left to see another figure in the shadows, long ears barely visible among the darkness and one hand casually playing with a boomerang. The odd-shaped head turned, and Ace felt himself being pinned down by cold eyes. Jack turned on the newcomer next, frost crawling over his hoodie and staff.

"How can you  _say_  that, Bunny? He sacrificed himself for his family. He was chosen by Manny. Doesn't that mean  _anything_  to you?"

"Not when he's been corrupted by Pitch." A soft female voice spoke.

A third vague figure joined the other two, and Ace was able to spot the outline of wings as she hovered above the ground.

"You have to understand, Jack. He's never going to recover." North continued.

"Look at him. He'll never be able to do his job. He can't use his powers, and Spirits will hate and mistrust him just because he looks like a half-baked Fearling." Bunny snarled abrasively.

"It's best to put him down now and end his suffering," Toothiana said gently, as if Ace were a sickly animal. "He's going to die soon anyway."

"Never!" Jack spat, staff held threateningly as frost permeated the air around the tip. "I won't let you touch him."

Ace could only watch the exchange in mute confusion, hurt and fear warring for dominance in his chest. He was finally meeting the Guardians, but they wanted him dead. They did not trust him. All because he had allowed Pitch's sand to bleed through his skin, turning him into a fading soul with a death sentence that would never be accepted by anyone ever again.

It was then that the fire-user realized the truth.

He stumbled away from Jack, shaking violently as he met the Guardian's confused blue eyes. The Winter Spirit stepped towards him, keeping an eye on his fellow Guardians even as he raised his free hand consolingly.

"Ace, it's okay. Don't worry. I won't let them hurt—"

"Y-You're not real." The fire-user interrupted Jack. "Y-You're not—"

The world faded away, and Ace woke in his cell.

Ace looked around at the familiar dungeon before his gaze dropped to his bound feet. And just like that, his hopes shattered. It felt like something tore in his chest, ripping through his heart and making him curl up in physical pain. A sound burst from his lips, low and melancholic, and he slowly recognized it as a sob.

Like a dam being broken, the fire-user began to cry, gasping hysterically and unable to take in enough air. He felt like he was choking, being strangled, and getting punched repeatedly in the stomach all at once, his entire body trembling like a leaf in a gale. Ace's vision blurred, his heart pounded painfully, and he breathed too quickly, hyperventilating.

_I'm never getting out of here. I'm going to die in this place. I'm never going to see Luffy or Jack again._

It was like a knife to his heart. The thought of death itself did not scare Ace, even now, but the fire-user found himself drowning in an overwhelming feeling of anguished regret.

He was not going to be able to even attempt to reveal himself to Luffy. He was not going to stay with Jack and ensure he would never be alone again. He was not going to be remembered for anything other than being Gol D. Roger's son. He was going to break every single promise he had ever made, dying alone with a whimper where no one would know or care.

_Pathetic_ , the voice whispered.

Ace curled up, covering his mouth, even as he screamed aloud in despair. Because he was still imprisoned. He was still infected. He was still dying. Even if Jack did somehow find him, the black sand was not going to leave. He was terminally ill, and it would only be a matter of time before death or madness claimed him, depriving him of an end without regrets. His new chance at life would be a waste, just like his first, and for the first time since Marineford the fire-user wondered why he continued bothering to breathe.

Ace let loose another, wailing sob, his anguish culminating into a single thought.

_I wish I'd never been reborn!_

ROTGOPROTGOP

Law was not a happy man.

Well, he was rarely happy, but at the current moment he was grumpier than usual. The source of his ire was a certain hyperactive Straw Hat Pirate, who had come barging into his room in the middle of the night claiming that they all were about to be attacked and that he needed to be ready to fight before dragging the irritated surgeon to the deck.

Why did the idiot think such a thing? Because a guy in his dreams said it was going to happen.

"It was a nightmare, Luffy." Nami said tiredly for the twelfth time, rubbing at her eyes. "There is no 'Shadow Man', or 'Nightmares' coming to ambush us."

"But he let me go because he wanted me to be awake when they attacked." Luffy protested. "He was going to do something to Ace but he stopped when he noticed his mystery creatures were coming for us. He said we were too close to his island."

Zoro gave a low sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Think about what you're saying. You believe the 'Shadow Man' was real, but Ace was also in your dream. Because your dream was just that: a  _dream_."

"It wasn't a dream." the straw hat-wearing pirate stated, not doubting himself even for an instant.

Luffy stayed stubborn, his jaw set and his eyes unnervingly alert despite the shadows underneath them. Law had only seen that expression on Straw Hat's face when one of his nakama was in danger, and could not help but take the pirate a little more seriously because of it.

Sanji took note of his Captain's expression as well. "I do not see any harm in staying up a few hours to keep watch together." He mentioned.

"Watch what?" Nami demanded. "I can't see a thing through this fog."

Indeed, the sea was covered by a thick, white fog that wrapped around the ship like ghostly smoke. Law could barely see the people standing on the deck with him, let alone anything around the ship. A ship the size of a mountain could be bearing down on them and they would not be able to see it until it was on top of them.

"You know what? Maybe we should stay up." The navigator of the crew quickly changed her tune as she too realized how dense the fog was. "The last thing we need is to hit something or run aground because we can't see where we're going."

Chopper shivered slightly, looking around them with wary eyes. "Does anyone else feel like we're being watched?"

The doctor looked spooked, and had obviously taken Luffy's warning seriously.

Law sighed in exasperation. "Oh yes." He said sarcastically. "I'm sure we're about to be attacked right n—"

Zoro lunged for the Heart Pirate, tackling him to the ground as something slammed into the deck where he had been standing. The Straw Hat Pirates and their ally all stared in shock at the familiar horse-like creature as it stood upright, hissing angrily because it had missed its target. It was Usopp who broke the stunned silence.

"Oh shi—"

Sanji twisted, fire racing along his leg as he kicked another horse-like creature in midair, causing it to veer off course and strike the ship instead of the sniper. It screeched in displeasure and what seemed like hundreds of glowing yellow eyes appeared in the fog around the ship.

"Oh my." Brook said, surprisingly not making a skull joke for once.

Law did not resist as he was pulled by Zoro to the rest of the Straw Hats, the pirates going back-to-back in the center of the deck. Each one drew their weapons, some more reluctantly than most. The reason for their hesitance was voiced by Usopp.

"I don't think we're going to be much help. If it's true that these things are immune to anything except Haki and Devil Fruit powers, Nami, Franky, and I are… useless."  _Helpless,_  the sniper did not say aloud.

The cyborg looked offended by Usopp's statement. "Nonsense. We can beat any foe we come across. I don't think they're so tough. These creatures don't intimidate me!"

With those bold words he swung at one of the monsters with a large fist. To their shock, it crumbled on impact, the punch strong enough to demolish its head. Even the creatures seemed stunned by the shipwright's successful attack, lingering in the air around the ship. Only Luffy was unsurprised by the events unfolding around him.

"I told you so. It's the Nightmares and Fearlings." Luffy said simply, calmer now that the threat was in front of him where he could fight it head on. "Shadow Man was right."

"Hold on… I'm guessing the 'Nightmares' are these horse-things. But… 'Fearlings'?" Zoro asked. "What are Fearlings?"

Chopper looked up, eyes going round. "I th-think I know."

The rest of the pirates followed his gaze. Different creatures floated eerily above them, human-like in shape but with what appeared to be tattered shadows instead of feet. They looked like demons straight out of hell, the very human-sounding screaming noise they made as a few of them dove at the Straw Hats only adding to that sentiment.

Zoro cut two in half with Wado Ichimonji and the Fearlings faded into black smoke before vanishing. Sanji took down another with Diable Jambe, while Luffy's Haki-infused fists quickly killed the rest of the divers. Like their actions were a signal, more of the creatures attacked, pouring down on the ship like sentient meteors.

"Oh no!" Usopp squeaked, but the crew ignored him.

"Room." Law said quietly, letting the blue sphere expand around the ship.

To his relief, the 'Fearlings' floating far above them were inside his range as well, though he was uncertain what his usual techniques would do to the creatures. Call it a hunch, but the surgeon doubted the Nightmares and Fearlings had hearts or organs.

The two sides clashed, ten pirates against a horde of demonic creatures.

Law slashed through ten Nightmares at once, using Shambles to swap randomly with different enemies in order to attack the monsters from within their ranks before swiftly teleporting back out of their midst. His Amputate technique also killed the creatures outright instead of allowing him to manipulate their parts, the Nightmares falling into piles of sand when cut.

Luffy did what he did best, punching every enemy that came within his long reach and knocking them out of the air with huge sweeps of his arms, expression hard and eyes shadowed as he defended his home. Most of his blows went through dozens of foes at once, with only the occasional Fearling able to evade his strikes.

Robin's arms appeared on multiple enemies, and with practiced ease she broke their necks and spines, the kills as effective as they were on humans. Zoro was a blur of metal and swords, slashing through the sea of foes with an excited light in his eyes as he took down dozens with every swing of his blades.

Franky was just as effective as his Captain with his fists, but also chose to unleash a variety of explosions and long range attacks when it was necessary. Usopp and Chopper stayed close to the shipwright, the sniper having already accepted that he was useless in this fight and the doctor still frozen by the sight of the Fearlings, eyes dilated with terror.

Law switched with another foe, stabbing a Nightmare in the side and slicing three more with his next blow. The surgeon could feel the steady drain on his energy, and realized he could not keep using his powers much longer. Law teleported back next to Luffy and grimaced. He reluctantly deactivated his Room, instead attacking normally with his sword. To his pleasure the weapon was just as effective out of the Room as in it, slicing the creatures to pieces with ease.

"It's going to be all right, Nami-swan." He heard Sanji saying. "I'll protect you!"

Law turned to see the chef fighting at the orange-haired thief's side, kicking any Nightmare or Fearling that came close and burning them into glass or nothingness. The navigator was frozen, fear in her eyes and Clima-Tact gripped uselessly in her hands as she watched the battle.

Sanji struck another Nightmare, kicking the horse directly in the nose, when dark arms wrapped around his torso from behind. The cook broke out of the Fearling's grip before it could lift him into the air, only for it to strike him in the face, sending him sprawling onto the deck. Law tensed, prepared to intervene, when something in Nami's terrified orbs changed, her gaze growing hard.

" _No!_ " she shouted, and clouds formed around her weapon.

Electricity sparked between the clouds, striking the Fearling with gusto. It gave a harsh, high-pitched shriek that made more than one Straw Hat clap their hands over their ears. When the lightshow faded the Fearling was gone. Sanji smiled happily, hearts in his eyes as he swooned before Nami.

"My Nami-swan is so strong and beautiful! She saved my life, that means she must—"

"Duck, idiot!" the navigator shouted, swinging her staff.

Sanji did as she commanded, and Nami's weapon slammed into the stalking Nightmare, slicing through it like a knife in soft butter. It scattered into sand. Seeing the two could take care of themselves, Law casually dodged and struck down another Nightmare, scanning the sky once more as he watched the lingering Fearlings above.

Most of the Fearlings were continuing to ignore the humans below them, circling around the front sail and crow's nest. Occasionally one would swoop at the mast, slashing at it with their claws in a way that was almost like they were curious children. The surgeon watched them prod the ship in confusion. Why would they focus on the wood, instead of the pirates?

The answer dawned on Law and he gave a shout. "Straw Hat-ya!  _They're trying to destroy the mast!_ "

As the words left his mouth, a large group of Fearlings all lunged for the tall wooden post, tearing at it and slamming into the wood with no regard for their own well-being. Some Nightmares joined their kin in the attack, and an ominous cracking sound echoed through the foggy air.

A blast of wind from Nami sent a few of the creatures hurtling away from their target. The pressurized air tore a brief hole through the fog around them, and Law spotted a dark, rocky shape in the distance. An island. The surgeon pushed the thought away and refocused on the fight, gritting his teeth as their enemies dove for the mast again. His mind ran at a hundred miles a minute, and an idea slowly formed. He gripped his sword in one hand.

_This will tire me out, but I don't have a choice._  "Room."

The blue sphere expanded once more, covering the attacking monsters and the sea around the ship. Without hesitation, Law swapped the Nightmares and Fearlings for sea water, causing a few of his allies to shout in protest as the liquid rained down on them from above.

Behind the surgeon, a Nightmare pounced, only to be smacked away by an invisible force. It chased after its elusive, invisible enemy, before dismissing the annoyance and focusing on the larger threat. Franky intercepted the creature before it could try to ambush Law again, punching it into nothingness.

"Keep swapping them, bro! They're sand so they won't like the water."

Law did not bring up the fact that only the Nightmares were made of the black sand, while the Fearlings appeared to be shadows or physical darkness. Instead he continued to exchange all of the creatures for saltwater, using Shambles on ten to twenty at a time. He could feel his stamina steadily decreasing, but kept going, unwilling to stop until all of their enemies were gone.

The Straw Hat Pirates surrounded him like an honorary guard, keeping the Fearlings and Nightmares away from the surgeon that kept teleporting them, and destroyed more than a few themselves in the process. A large bucketful of water descended on Law's head as he switched it for a Fearling that had been diving at him from above, and his already tired body grew weaker.

He pushed on, and soon enough, silence fell over the Thousand Sunny, the sounds of battle fading. Law scanned the deck and air once more for any signs of more Nightmares or Fearlings, and, seeing none, promptly fell to his knees, breathing laboriously. Rubbery arms wrapped around him and prevented him from collapsing completely, and Luffy's annoyingly cheerful face entered his vision.

"Wow, Traffy! You teleported over a hundred of those mystery creatures."

Nami made an odd screeching sound. "Why are they a 'mystery'?  _You're_  the one whose been  _calling them_  Nightmares and Fearlings!"

"Oh. Right." Luffy said dismissively with a goofy smile.

The navigator looked like she was going to burst a vessel.

Chopper rushed to Law's side, fur still on end and antlers quivering slightly. The surgeon noticed his eyes were still dilated with fear, though his expression also held some guilt. The Heart Pirate had a feeling he knew the source of the reindeer's dismay.

_He froze. He didn't fight at all. I wonder if he has some deep-rooted instinct that keeps him from fighting those creatures…_

"Are you injured?" the doctor asked, voice tinged with worry.

"No. Just tired." Law said shortly. "Thank you for your concern." He added as an afterthought.

Franky was busy inspecting the damaged mast, visage growing grimmer by the second. Even with Nami and Law's quick intervention, the surgeon could see obvious cracks and missing chunks of wood in the post. As if to emphasize how damaged it was, the mast gave another ominous creak. Franky patted it gently, as if to comfort it.

"This is bad." The shipwright said grimly. "We need to dock somewhere so I can make repairs." He gave a sigh. "At least they didn't go after the rudder. Then we'd really be stuck."

Usopp swallowed hard. "But the only land nearby is…"

Everyone turned to look at the shadowy island that was barely visible through the fog.

"I hope the Shadow Man doesn't kill us all when we land on his island." Robin commented. "That's his territory, and most likely his base of operations. He'll have all of his minions and hold the advantage there. And I doubt he'll be happy about trespassers."

Nami began to tremble. "Thanks, Robin. I really needed to hear that."

"We don't have a choice." Franky broke in, grimacing as he looked at the cracked mast. "It's not safe to travel with the mast in this condition. One strong gust of wind and it could break and fall, causing more damage."

More than one pirate grimaced. They knew having the mast snap while they were out at sea could be a death sentence for them all. The Straw Hats and Law all looked to Luffy, who gazed back at them with an oddly serious expression.

The future Pirate King sighed. "Let's go to the mystery island. If we do run into the Shadow Man, we'll beat him!"

He sounded confident, but Law could not help but feel that Straw Hat-ya wasn't as undaunted by the prospect of meeting the 'Shadow Man' as he was pretending to be. Luffy's nightmare had been correct.

That meant either the idiot could predict the future, or the 'Shadow Man' really did exist. Could he truly be the source of the 'Nightmares', and be able to control and walk through dreams? Law could not help but wonder what else in Straw Hat-ya's 'dream' was actually authentic.

ROTGOPROTGOP

It could not be.

Red-Haired Shanks, one of the Four Yonko and Captain of the Red Force, stared silently at the report Rockstar had given him. Normally, Shanks was not one to sit and read paperwork, but he had taken the slip of paper from his first mate Benn on a whim— and  _maybe_  to annoy the man a little— and noticed something… disturbing.

Shanks had quickly retreated to his cabin alone— much to the worry of his crew— and read Rockstar's message over and over again, taking in each and every word. It could not be what he thought. It was impossible. But the facts lined up.

People going missing and being killed, with the found bodies sporting odd or sometimes no wounds.

Odd black creature being spotted around towns and cities.

Strange weather patterns and snow storms where there should be none, even in a place as unpredictable as the New World.

And rumors that the Marines were allied with a shadowy 'man'.

Shanks looked out his window, letting his gaze drift to the moon. He pressed his lips together and nearly crinkled the report in his hand as his fingers tightened around the paper. It was impossible, it could not be, but he should know better than anyone by now that anything was possible in the end.

The Yonko turned to his Den Den Mushi, dialing a number he thought he would not have to use for many years to come. The line rang for a few moments, before someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello? Who is this, yoi?"

Shanks did not smile as he recognized the voice. "Marco. This is Red-Haired Shanks. Tell your Oyaji that we need to meet. We have some important things to discuss."


	9. Disbelief

The island could only be described as 'dark'. It was impossible to tell whether it was day or night, with looming black clouds enveloping the sky and a permanent fog blanketing the rocks and ground. Luffy could just see the outlines of tree trunks a few paces from the water, the rocky cliffs that accompanied them making it seem like large monsters were hidden within the mist, waiting for the humans to come in range in order to snap them up in their jaws.

His sense of adventure begged him to walk into the unknown, but his rarely-utilized self-preservation instincts told him to stay with his crew. The entire place had a threatening presence, like something otherworldly and menacing was covering the island, and even the ever-oblivious Star Hat Captain felt the heaviness in the air that spoke of danger.

Luffy himself was not afraid of the island, but he could tell some of his nakama were. Chopper was visibly shaking, as were Usopp and Nami. Brook seemed more uncomfortable with the dense fog than the island itself, staying near the crew as they made their way onto the beach. The Thousand Sunny was anchored as close to the island as it could be without going aground, and Franky leapt to the shore last after giving the mast one more look over.

"As much as I hate to say it, we may have to make do with a patch job." Franky said with obvious disappointment and reluctance. He spoke the words lowly, as if the mere utterance of them pained him greatly. "Normally I'd never suggest such a thing, but I don't think that we should take down the mast completely and attempt to replace it here."

"If you think that's best." Luffy said, trusting the shipwright's judgement without question.

Nami's eyes flicked rapidly towards the dark, menacing forest and she stepped closer to Zoro. "How long do you think it's going to take?"

Franky thought about it. "A few hours, no more. If I were replacing the mast it would take a large part of a day, but I'm just stabilizing it for now."

"The sail is damaged as well." Law mentioned, pointing at the large tear in the raised cloth.

The cyborg looked unconcerned. "That's an easy fix. Nothing to worry about."

Luffy's eyes drifted back to the woods. He really wanted to explore and see what was hidden within the shadowy trees, but a tiny— very tiny— piece of the pirate tingled in warning, whispering that he should not enter the forest under any circumstances. Still, the Straw Hat Captain could not help but feel drawn to the dark trees.

" _Luffy…"_ Someone murmured.

"What was that?" the rubber pirate asked, turning back to his crew.

They all looked at him with an ensemble of confused, neutral, or bored expressions.

"None of us said anything, Luffy." Usopp informed him.

"Oh. Okay." Luffy said with a shrug.

Without consciously controlling the movement, his gaze strayed back to the forest.

"So now what do we do?" Chopper asked, looking up at Franky. "Do you need help with the mast?"

"Usopp, Zoro, Sanji, and Robin can assist me." The cyborg said after a moment. "And maybe…"

He glanced at Luffy, who was now shifting impatiently from foot to foot while picking his ear, and shook his head without saying anything more. The Straw Hat Pirate did not notice Franky's scrutiny, eyes locked on the mystery forest.

" _Luffy…"_

Again he heard the whisper, but did not associate it with his crew this time. Yes, he knew it wasn't one of his crewmates. It did not sound like any of them. But it did seem familiar…

"I'm going to go explore." The straw hat-wearing pirate found himself saying.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Nami said immediately. "What about the 'Shadow Man'?"

Luffy gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Nami! Zoro and Sanji will be here. They'll protect you."

"That's not what I meant." The orange-haired navigator muttered.

" _Luffy…"_

The voice called again, and the Straw Hat Captain felt an odd pull in his heart. He knew it from somewhere. He needed to follow the voice. He needed to find it, to find out who was speaking.

"I'm going." Luffy said resolutely. "All of you need to stay with the Sunny in case the mystery creatures try to strand us here by targeting the ship again."

"I don't…" Sanji began, but paused. "That is actually a good point, but you shouldn't go alone."

" _Luffy…!"_

This time the voice sounded like a shout, and Luffy found himself trembling. He knew that voice. He recognized it. But who…?

And then the pirate realized who the voice belonged to.

The knowledge struck him like a physical blow, followed swiftly by unease and a tingling confusion. The Straw Hat Captain did not let himself hesitate any more than that, and Luffy burst into motion, running into the trees.

He might have heard his nakama calling his name behind him, but he ignored them, leaping over a tree root and darting into the thick fog. He almost tripped over another root, then a rock, followed by a fallen branch, but they did not slow him. Nothing could hinder him as he ran. Not this time.

" _Luffy, help!"_

He ran deeper into the mist, tree trunks jumping out of the fog like monsters, but he did not decrease his speed, even as his heart pounded too quickly and his breath came in labored gasps. He had to keep going. He had to reach the one who called his name.

Because he knew that voice. He should never have forgotten it.

" _Luffy,_ _ **help me**_ _!"_

The voice cried out again, filled with desperation and pain, and a response built in Luffy's throat. The name ripped its way from his mouth in a shout, overflowing with all the joy, fear, sadness, and confusion that had been bottled up inside him for the past three years.

"ACE!"

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace lay on his back in his cell, watching idly as water spilled through the cracks between the stones and filled the dungeon rapidly. He didn't bother sitting up as his prison was flooded, the liquid going over his head in a matter of seconds. The fire-user observed distantly as the water turned everything a murky black, allowing small bubbles to float from his lips. He breathed in painfully, letting the water fill his lungs, and was relieved when he drowned.

He woke in the middle of the Marineford battle.

Ace apathetically witnessed as Akainu evaded his protective leap and killed Luffy instead of him, burning the teenager from within. His little brother died in a burst of heat, blood, and fire, but Ace did not grieve, scream, or cry. He merely ran toward the magma-using Admiral in a suicidal charge, ignoring his crewmates' desperate shouts to stop. Akainu punched him through his already-dead heart and he woke in his cell.

The Admiral was still there when Ace opened his eyes.

The next few  _days-weeks-minutes-years_ - _seconds-decades-Makeitend_ became a blur of pain and blood as he was tortured by  _Akainu-Teach-Smoker-Sengoku-Luffy-Marco-Garp-Oyaji-Thatch-Sabo-PleasestopI'msorryplease_ , friends and enemies alike whispering how worthless he was in his ears as they told him he deserved this, and that did not deserve to live, that he needed to be punished for daring to breathe. He wanted to tell them that he already knew that, that he understood, but he had lost his voice long ago, and so they continued to convince him. It ended when Izo shot Ace in the gut, and he bled out hours later.

Ace woke on the Moby Dick, with the Whitebeard Pirates walking around him.

Marco appeared in front of the fire-user, focused intently on a paper in his hands, and Ace tensed, prepared for a collision. The Phoenix walked through the Summer Spirit, causing an icy void to rip through his heart, and was instantly followed by Vista, then Haruta. Ace stumbled around, gasping and clutching at his chest, feeling as if he were being stabbed each time someone passed through him.

No matter how loudly Ace cried out in pain as ice shot through his heart, no matter how hoarsely he sobbed as his nakama unknowingly hurt him, he remained a Spirit, forever unseen by the ones he loved. Unable to be touched. Unable to be seen. Unable to be loved.

But the worst was yet to come. Years passed slowly, agonizingly, miserably, without companionship, and before Ace's eyes, the people around him aged. As he watched, they withered away, the fire-user remaining unchanged by time as his nakama faded into dust and left him alone.

The Summer Spirit dropped to his knees in grief, closing his eyes, and woke in his cell.

Marco, Oyaji, Izo, and Thatch stood in front of Ace, all staring at him with undisguised disgust. He stared up at them from his position on the floor, silently pleading for acceptance and support, but knowing he would receive none.

"Look who it is. The demon spawn!" Marco spat, hatred in his half-lidded gaze.

_I'm sorry._

"Traitor! Monster! You have no right to take my mark and call yourself my family!" Whitebeard hissed.

_Please don't hate me._

"You're Roger's son." Izo snarled. "How could I ever be brothers with a disgusting creature like you?"

_You can't._

"At least you're showing your tainted blood now." Thatch said coldly, gesturing at the black marks that covered Ace's skin. "You need to pay for your father's sins. Blood for blood."

_I know._

Whitebeard and Thatch stabbed. Marco slashed. Izo shot. Their blades, talons, and bullets dug into Ace's flesh, killing him in a spray of blood.

He woke strapped down to a table.

Two shadowy figures leaned over Ace, indiscernible from the darkness, but the fire-user could see the outline of that hated Marine hat on one of their heads. He tried to speak but found himself gagged, the cloth used to silence him coarse against his tongue. Ace breathed shallowly, pulling at his bonds, but they refused to give an inch.

"We found it on the beach near HQ." The Marine was saying. "Shot it a few times only for it to regenerate. The higher ups think it's somehow immortal and want you to find out how."

"Immortal, you say?" the faceless scientist asked. He smiled, showing eerie white teeth. "How interesting. Let's see how it ticks."

Again Ace's world blurred into indescribable pain as the man took him apart piece by piece, seeing just how far his 'immortality' could be pushed and abused. Skin was sliced—  _Let me die_ —organs were removed—  _Let me die_ — limbs were amputated—  _Pleaseplease_ _ **please**_ —, and the fire-user suffered for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually his dissector nicked the wrong vein and the Summer Spirit mercifully bled out after years of torment, his immortal body finally failing under the constant strain.

Ace woke chained down in the middle of a large room, five figures standing around him.

He could not see their faces, but knew they had to be the Guardians and who could only be Mother Nature. He spotted Bunnymund's long ears, North's large frame, Sandy's light glow, Toothiana's fluttering wings, and Emily Jane's shifting cloak even as the five circled around him, speaking as if he were not there.

"How could Manny ever think this wanker could be Guardian material? He must have been out of his bloody mind. The brat was a pirate, a criminal, the son of a demon. He tried to kill a child when he himself was a child. How could someone like that be anything more than a monster?"

_I can't._

"He's too prideful, too selfish, too cruel to be anything more than a villain, just like they all say he is. He broke all his promises. His death was his own fault. The fool caused so much pain, so much destruction. He never deserved a second life. He never deserved a  _first_  life. All he did was bring misery to those around him."

_I know. I'm sorry._

"He's probably a spy for Pitch. Look at him. He's practically a Fearling. He let Pitch corrupt him. He allowed this to happen. He has too much fear, anger, and hatred. What good person— what  _Guardian_ — has any of those emotions? He'll betray us at the first opportunity. How could we trust something like that?"

_None. You can't. It's all my fault._

"He is not a Guardian. He is not a Nature Spirit. He is an abomination, and I refuse to let him command one of my Seasons. I made a mistake. I never should have chosen him. This needs to be rectified."

_Please, don't…_

Fearlings stepped out of the shadows, eyes wild and hungry as they looked upon the silent, unmoving fire-user. Ace could not shut his eyes as the monsters lunged, surrounding him, and devoured him like they had destroyed Kozmotis Pitchner. He could only scream as they tore at his body and soul, tearing him apart like tigers with meat, before reforming him into something awful and demonic. His entire self became fear and pain, and he joined the evil that he had been fated to become since the day he was born.

The son of a demon, infected by demons, doomed to become a demon.

Ace slowly came to consciousness, gripping his head with hands so tight he threatened to dig his nails into his skin. The fire-user took a moment to let his fingers slide down his face and explore his features, allowing himself to feel a semblance of relief as he realized he seemed to be still human. He was not a newly-formed wraith that had been born from the massacre of fear and shadows.

_Who's to say that won't happen anyway?_  The voice crooned.

Ace did his best to ignore it. The fire-user curled up on the floor, pale and chilled, but too tired to even tremble anymore. Ace suspected that the nightmares had released him momentarily again, the last echoes of his will forcing him back to wakefulness. Yet even here, in supposed reality, unnatural shadows with sadistic grins lingered at the edge of his vision. He covered his eyes with his hands, refusing to look at them.

_Go away._  He mouthed.  _Just go away._

The hallucinations refused to leave him alone, laughing and sneering at him as they whispered in his ears, calling him a coward, telling him he was worthless, encouraging him to die. He tried to block out the noises by covering his ears and zoning out, but the sound of footsteps drew him back into his body and he looked up, expecting either Pitch or a new nightmare.

The sight that met his eyes filled him with a dull feeling of acceptance, and Ace felt something else in his already damaged psyche crack. Maybe repetition really could lead to insanity.

_Here we go again…_ the voice sang.

For outside of Ace's cell stood Luffy.

ROTGOPROTGOP

The moment Luffy ran into the woods, Law went after him, expanding his Room in an attempt to stop the fleeing pirate. The Straw Hat Captain darted out of his blue sphere too quickly to be grabbed. With a curse, the surgeon went after him, switching once with a loose log within the woods before his tired body reminded him of his low stamina.

Letting loose a vehement oath, Law continued chasing Luffy on foot, leaping over tree roots and large rocks as he followed the younger pirate into the dark forest. The Straw Hat Captain appeared to have a destination in mind for the end of his frantic run through the woods, face pointed forward and no hesitation in his run as he pelted towards his goal.

It took longer than Law thought it would to catch up with the running Straw Hat Pirate. When his Room finally encased his ally— almost invisible because of the thick fog— the surgeon appeared behind Luffy, wrapping his arms around the rubber man and keeping him in place.

Luffy thrashed and struggled in his grip, eyes too wide and breathing slightly panicked. Law held back his ally as best he could, guessing that Luffy must recognize him because the pirate could easily break free if he really wanted to.

"Straw Hat-ya, calm down." Law said as he was thrown about slightly by his ally's thrashing. Despite Luffy's efforts, the surgeon was somehow able to keep himself on his feet. "It's just me."

"I know I know  _I know_." Luffy repeated rapidly, still wiggling. "Let me  _go_ , Traffy! I need to get to him!"

"Get to who?" Law asked cautiously.

"Ace!" the Straw Hat Captain shouted. "I hear him. He needs help!"

It took a moment for the surgeon to realize who the straw hat-wearing pirate was talking about. "Fire Fist" Portgas D. Ace. Luffy's older brother that had died at Marineford three years ago. Law had barely considered the possibility that the dead fire-user was here somehow before he remembered the effects of the black sand and recalled whose island this was, coming to a conclusion that he greatly disliked. His grip on Luffy tightened.

"Your brother is dead, Straw Hat-ya." Law growled. "It must be a trick set up by the Shadow Man."

Luffy shook his head violently, swinging it back and forth. "It's not a trick! It's his voice! I can hear Ace. He's in  _pain_ , Law."

His voice sounded so small and scared, nothing like his usual exuberant tone, and Law almost let his grip slacken. Almost. Instead he held Luffy tighter and wondered if cutting him into pieces and dragging him back to the Thousand Sunny was worth the berating and headache he would get from the idiot's nakama.

"I do not know what you're hearing, but it is not your brother, Straw Hat-ya." The surgeon said sternly. "I—"

" _Luffy! Help m-me!"_

The distant scream made both Law and Luffy flinch. Both of their heads snapped in the same direction, and there was another shout.

" _Help! Please help! N-No... Please don't!_ _ **Stop!**_ _"_

Law felt the hairs on his nape raise as a wordless, agonized scream ripped through the air The wail was long, keening, and speaking of unbearable pain. It cut off abruptly, leaving behind a terrible silence, and the surgeon could only stand there in a stunned silence, mind reeling as he tried to identify what he had just heard. A fist slammed into the Heart Pirate's stomach, winding him, and Luffy slipped from his grasp, stumbling forward.

"Ace! I'm coming!" the straw hat-wearing pirate yelled.

Luffy sped off, darting over tree branches and vanishing into the fog.

"Damn it…" Law hissed, gripping his sword hilt and running after the Straw Hat Pirate once more.

Law did not know what the hell was going on. He did not remember ever hearing Portgas's voice, but if both he and Luffy could hear someone that his ally identified as his older brother…

The surgeon caught up to his ally, following him through the mist and watching as he tripped over every other tree root in his haste. It was a good thing the idiot was made of rubber or he would be covered in bruises by now. Luffy skidded to a halt in a clearing not far ahead of Law, turning around in a circle and putting his hands around his mouth.

"Ace! Where are you?  _Ace_!"

There was no response, and the Straw Hat Captain's expression drooped with dismay. He gave a frustrated shout and punched the ground before sitting down hard and putting his head in his hands. Law slowed down, approaching the visibly distraught pirate cautiously.

Luffy looked up at him, tears threatening to fall from his dark eyes. "I heard him. We both heard him. I know we did."

Law bit his lip, uncertain of how to respond. "Luffy—"

Below Luffy's feet, there was an ominous crack. The rubber man's eyes met the surgeon's, filled with confusion, before ground beneath the Straw Hat Pirate gave way.

Luffy vanished into the newly-formed hole, swallowed up by the earth in an instant. Law did not even have time to fully comprehend what had happened before a rubbery arm appeared out of the fissure, groping blindly and grabbing the front of his shirt.

_Shi—_

Law was yanked forward and into the hole by his ally, darkness surrounding him as he plunged into the abyss. He was too stunned to scream as air whistled past him and unable to tell which way was up as he tumbled downward.

His brain screamed at him to do something to slow his fall, because dying because of Luffy's stupidity would be an embarrassing way to go. The surgeon was about to summon a Room when he landed roughly on something, knocking the air from his lungs.

"Ow." Said 'something' whined.

Law blinked rapidly, grey eyes adjusting to the darkness, and found himself staring at a pouting and wincing Luffy. The surgeon's eyes narrowed, and he cuffed the other pirate upside the head.

"Ow ow ow! Why is Traffy acting like Nami?" Luffy complained.

"Because you dragged me down into a hole, you idiot!" Law snapped.

He got to his feet, peering upward at the small speck of light that could be seen far above them. They had fallen at least three hundred feet, and the surgeon was honestly surprised none of his bones had broken. Luffy was a rubber idiot, so he would be fine unless he fell into the ocean. Law was sorely tempted to test that 'theory' out and dunk the Straw Hat Pirate in the sea once they got out of this hole. The surgeon filed away that desire so it could be fulfilled at a later time.

An odd shape caught Law's eye and he focused on it, instinctively putting his back to the rising Luffy's. They had landed in what appeared to be a large cavern of some sort, but there was no way it was natural.

The walkways that lay dangerously above the abyss were too smooth to be anything but manmade, and parts of the cave looked as if they had been carved. Looking down over the edge of the walkway, the surgeon was thankful that he and Luffy had landed where they did, for he could not see the bottom of the cave from where he stood.

He spotted ornately shaped doorways leading to darkness were scattered orderly around the outskirts of the chasm. If that was not enough evidence that someone had remodeled this place, the spiky-barred cages that hung from the ceiling removed any doubts from Law's mind.

The cave— lair?— looked like a mix of a regal palace and a torturous prison, giving off an air of smoothness, grace, and overall creepiness that made a shiver go up Law's spine.

A logical thought slowly formed in Law's mind, and he dearly hoped it was not true.  _Please don't tell me this is 'Shadow Man's' base of operations._

The spiked cages creaked and swayed sinisterly, giving off low groans that echoed loudly through the caverns. If Law listened closely enough, the surgeon swore he could hear low whispers among the harsh creaks, speaking in an indecipherable language.

It was almost like they were in his head, gently stroking his consciousness as they prepared to grab him and tear his mind apart. Law's heart pounded in his chest as he listened, his curiosity not quite able to drown out the unease that the lair gave him.

Luffy appeared to have no such reservations.

"What is this place?" the pirate asked, walking along one of the black stone bridges casually and looking around with wide, eager eyes. "Do you think someone lives here?"

Law resisted the urge to sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose, catching up to the wandering Straw Hat Pirate and rolling his eyes.

"Based on our assumption of who owns this island, I believe this may be the 'Shadow Man's' home." The surgeon suggested dryly.

Luffy's sandaled feet stopped moving and he stood in the middle of the walkway, out in the open, with an unreadable expression on his face. Law growled lowly and grabbed the idiot's arm, pulling him into a doorway that led to descending stairs. He glanced back the way they had come, and mentally applauded his decisive action as he spotted what appeared to be a Nightmare peel away from the shadows before walking along a path on the other side of the lair.

_So this actually_ _**is** _ _their hideout. Dammit._

"As in, we may be in  _enemy territory_ , Straw Hat-ya." The surgeon explained, slightly irritated by the pirate's lack of caution. He pointed at the Nightmare, who had been joined by two more of its kind. "This cave is likely crawling with those things."

"Yeah. Got it." Luffy said absently, scanning the area with a frown. "Since we're here, we should try to find Shadow Man and get him to leave us alone."

He paused, body stiffening visibly. Then he bolted down the staircase without another word, sandals clopping loudly against the stone floor. Law muttered a curse as he found himself chasing Luffy once more, skidding around the corner just in time to see the pirate take in a deep breath, preparing to shout. Law clapped his hand over Straw Hat's mouth before he could give away their position.

"What are you  _doing_?" he hissed.

Luffy struggled a bit, pulling the surgeon's hand away as he began to walk once more. In hindsight, Law counted himself lucky for not getting his hand licked by the childish pirate.

"The Shadow Man had Ace in my dream." Luffy said stubbornly. "I heard Ace screaming, and his voice led me towards here. What if the Shadow Man has Ace here?"

Law stared at the Straw Hat Pirate, saying the first thing that came to his mind. "That's ridiculous, Straw Hat-ya. That was a dream, and your brother is  _dead_."

_But the Shadow Man's warning and attack were actually real…_  The illogical part of Law's mind whispered. He ignored it.

Luffy adopted an expression comparable to that of a kicked— no, a  _stabbed_ — puppy and the surgeon mentally winced. But it had to be said. Law had a theory that 'Shadow Man's' unknown abilities had to do with nightmares and fears, and while parts of the visions he gave to Luffy may be grounded in reality, there was also a high probability that he was crafting hope-crushing illusions as well to get a reaction out of the Straw Hat Pirate.

Law was uncertain if Shadow Man's gifts included some type of telepathy, but him having control over waking hallucinations was not that far of a stretch. They lived in a world where a person's Devil Fruit ability was only limited by what they thought they could do with their powers, so the surgeon was willing to bet the Shadow Man was purposely manipulating Luffy.

The Straw Hat Pirate did not consider any of this, however, caught up in the trap the Shadow Man had unintentionally— or intentionally— set.

"I heard Ace. I'm awake right now, and I heard him." The Straw Hat Pirate growled. "Shadow Man has him, and we're in his house, so we need to see if Ace is here."

Law's lips pressed together unhappily when he spotted the mulish jut of Luffy's jaw. The pirate would not back down on this. He firmly believed in the illusion he thought was true.

_We should be trying to find a way out, not heading deeper into the lair. There is no way that this will end well._  Law sighed and gave a shrug. "You're an idiot. Fine. So how do you expect to find him?"

"We'll look everywhere." Luffy stated stubbornly, reaching the bottom of the stairs. "I know he must be here. I can find—"

He glanced inside the room and froze in the doorway, entire body locking as his skin turned white. In a fluid motion, Law stepped around the unmoving pirate, drawing Kikoku as he prepared to face whatever had made the Straw Hat Captain stop. He nearly dropped his blade in shock.

_This isn't possible_ , Law thought.

Sitting in the first room— the  _cell_ — chained to the wall by his ankles and staring at them with hollow eyes, was Portgas D. Ace. He looked the same as he did three years ago at Marineford, except for the faded orange eyes and strange black markings that streaked through his pale skin like vein tattoos. As Law watched, one on his collar bone grew longer, creeping up his neck.

The surgeon let himself take in Fire Fist's other injuries, noting the bruises and cuts that covered his skin, the feverish tinge to his cheeks, and the infected-looking wound on his side. He noticed the densest group of the black markings by the wound, and a half-processed theory began to niggle at the back of his mind.

"A-Ace?" Luffy whispered in a tremulous voice, finally breaking out of his paralysis.

Portgas reeled back visibly, clenching his teeth and pressing his back harder against the stone wall. His orange eyes squeezed shut. He was mouthing something, and after a moment's studying, Law deciphered his inaudible words.

" _Go away. Just go away."_

Luffy was undaunted by his brother's lack of response, walking up to the bars and pressing his face against them. "Ace, it's okay. I'm here now. I'm going to get you out."

Portgas did not speak. Instead he curled up, placing his head on his bent knees and gripping his hair. He rocked back and forth slightly, saying nothing. Luffy pulled at the bars, growling when they did not budge. A few more tugs yielded no results, and the pirate gave an angry huff. He knelt down, reaching his hand through the bars.

"Don't worry, Ace. We'll—"

Portgas jerked away from his invading hand, retreating as close to the corner as his bindings allowed. His eyes looked anywhere other than at Luffy, finally noticing Law in the darkness. Confusion crossed Fire Fist's features, and his gaze randomly fixed on the surgeon's hat like he had never seen one before. Dull orange orbs widened.

Meanwhile, Luffy's arm stayed its normal length, refusing to stretch, and his brow furrowed.

"Law? I can't use my rubber powers." The Straw Hat Pirate commented.

The surgeon immediately tried to summon a Room, only for nothing to happen. It was then he noticed the extra weakness in his limbs, and looked around instinctively for the seastone that was preventing him from using his powers. But seastone required physical contact to work— didn't it?— so why were his and Luffy's Devil Fruit abilities being rendered inert?

Luffy gripped the cell bars again. "We're going to get you out, Ace. We won't let whoever's keeping you here hurt you anymore."

The Straw Hat Pirate pulled at and punched at the bars with Haki-imbued fists, but the iron refused to give even the slightest bit. Luffy emitted a frustrated sound, his next punch connecting with the iron with a loud, echoing  _bang_.

Portgas continued to observe his brother, expression rapidly shifting from bewilderment to horror. His gaze flicked past Law and the surgeon turned in time to see a Nightmare lunging for him. The Heart Pirate cursed aloud and swung his sword erratically, cutting the creature in half. The unexpected attack and lack of resistance from his foe caused Law to fall to his knees, and his bare palm pressed against the floor. Dizziness swamped him, making his vision blur.

"The floor is made of seastone." He realized out loud.  _How did the 'Shadow Man' get so much of it?_  "Straw Hat-ya, we need to get moving!"

"I'm not leaving without Ace!" Luffy snapped, swinging around to face him with an angry intensity in his eyes that struck Law momentarily speechless.

Finally, Portgas broke his silence. "I'm not real, Luffy."

His voice was hoarse and soft, and each word sounded painful, but the fire-user spoke with a conviction that forbade any argument. Luffy turned back to the cell and argued anyway, a foolish, tearful grin on his face.

"Don't be silly, Ace."

Law heard a distant rumble and a cold draft blew into the room, making the pirate shiver despite his warm clothes. He eyed the empty door warily as the dungeon grew steadily colder… and darker?

Panic flickered across Portgas's features before they smoothed out. His head tipped and he smirked mockingly. With the black markings and orange eyes, the pose made him look almost demonic. "I'm not joking, Luffy. I'm a hallucination. The Shadow Man created me to draw you here so he could kill you, idiot."

Luffy looked at his brother in confusion, while understanding came to Law in a rush. The tendrils of disbelief within him that claimed this was some odd hallucinatory copy of Portgas D. Ace faded away as Law slowly realized that this was indeed Luffy's brother, he was indeed real… and he was trying to get them to leave without him because  _something was coming that they would not survive an encounter with._

The ground rumbled ominously again, and the whispers that lingered in the air grew louder, excitement entering their murmurs as they eagerly anticipated the humans' ends. Law darted to the doorway, spotting shifting shadows creeping around the entrance to the staircase that led to the dungeon. He did not need to see clearly to know that those were Nightmares and Fearlings, either patrolling through the lair by chance or slowly, intentionally boxing the two intruders in.

"Straw Hat-ya, there are a ton of those creatures out there. We're being cut off." Law told his ally.

"Your friend can't see me." Portgas interjected smoothly before Luffy could respond. His voice held a slight raspy strain, as if it were becoming increasingly difficult to talk.

"Stop being stupid!" Luffy snapped. He turned to Law, desperation shining in his dark eyes as he looked half-defiantly, half-pleadingly at the surgeon. "Law? You can see Ace. You can."

"No he can't." Ace insisted, and gave an unwilling, dry cough.

Luffy looked at him. Law did not.

They were about to be surrounded. They did not have their powers. That took away their advantage over huge swarms of Nightmares and Fearlings and they would be easily overwhelmed. The 'Shadow Man'— whoever he may be— evidently wanted Luffy dead, and had taken the trouble to somehow copy— or amplify— Portgas's screams to lure the Straw Hat Pirate here.

Fire Fist knew Luffy would not leave him if he thought he was actually there, so he was trying to convince his brother he was one of the nightmares that had haunted the pirate for the last few weeks, as fake as the dreams that had plagued him at night.

But he  _was_  there. Somehow, Fire Fist was alive, and imprisoned. How was he not dead? Why was he being kept prisoner? Why were his eyes orange? Why did it look like he had not aged a day since his 'death'? Law had so many questions but did not— could not— ask them.

These factors raced through Law's mind as he tried to choose his response, but in reality it was the look in Portgas's eyes that made the decision for him.

He knew that expression. It was the look of an older brother trying desperately to protect his younger sibling, one that he recognized far too well. Despite his walls and general apathy, Law felt a bond with Portgas in that moment, fully understanding his desire to save his little brother no matter the personal cost.

"No, Luffy. I don't see anyone there." He lied.

The betrayed look that Straw Hat gave him nearly made him reconsider, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. Huh. He did not know he was capable of feeling such guilt anymore. Luffy glanced back at his brother and gave an odd, strangled sound that may have been a sob. He pulled his hat over his eyes and turned away from Ace.

"Let's go." Luffy mumbled, bolting away.

Before Law could follow, he heard Portgas speak. "Thank you…"

The words faded into another coughing fit, and a slight wheeze accompanied Fire Fist's painful-sounding breathing. The part of Law that was a dedicated doctor wanted nothing more than to check on and assist Ace, but he ignored the urge, unwilling to let Portgas's efforts go to waste. Gritting his teeth, the Heart Pirate nodded and made to follow the prisoner's younger brother.

A strong memory clicked at the front of his mind and he paused in the doorway, not looking behind him. When they had entered the dungeon, Portgas had looked defeated, resigned. But slowly, as if realizing his brother was truly there with him, the man had regained his instinct to save his sibling— to protect— and a small fire in his eyes had been rekindled.

The surgeon could not free Fire Fist, but maybe he could give him the motivation to free himself, or at least continue to survive. It would be a waste to just let Portgas's lingering flame go out.

Law spoke, low enough for only Ace to hear. "Sabo is alive."

He heard Fire Fist inhale sharply, but did not turn back, darting out of the dungeon and into the lair. The draining feeling of seastone plagued him as he caught up with Luffy, taking the stairs two at a time as they ascended. Law felt the moment the seastone floor became just stone, the weakness vanishing from his bones when his feet landed on the normal ground.

It was just in time too, because the Nightmares spotted the intruders and lunged for them with angry shrieks. Law summoned his Room, and was disheartened to discover that Ace was too far out of his range to teleport the fire-user to his side.

Ignoring the guilt that was steadily growing heavier in his chest, the surgeon grabbed Luffy by the shoulder, switching them with some Nightmares outside the lunging group and allowing them to pounce onto their unlucky fellows.

Luffy cocked his fist back, swinging his extending arm and rapidly punching through multiple foes. Law bisected more of their enemies with long-reaching strokes of his nodachi, and the allies pushed forward, running along one of the railing-less bridges as they made their way up through the lair. However, every time a Nightmare fell, five more came to take its place, and the two pirates soon found their path blocked by a horde of snarling, advancing Nightmares.

Again the two pirates found themselves surrounded by a sea of black sand, the wall churning and writhing unnaturally. Law and Luffy stood back-to-back as the swarm surged around them sickeningly, the pirates unable to see through the mass of swirling darkness.

Luffy spun in a circle, arm stretching and pounding swarms of enemies to crumbled sand, but the fallen were immediately replaced, filling in the holes the Straw Hat Pirate made in their wall. Law's large slashes and attempted repositioning of the Nightmares did nothing more than irritate the mob, and the two pirates remained trapped in the cyclone of darkness and sand.

To Law's surprise, the Nightmares did not close in to kill the humans, instead deciding to keep the pirates contained. The reason why soon revealed itself. A tall, thin figure peeled away from the shadows around them, forming into a grey-skinned humanoid with glowing yellow eyes.

Law could not call the male human, not even in his mind, because something about the newcomer just oozed unnaturalness even more than his minions, as if he did not belong in this world. He gave off an almost physical feeling of malice and danger, and every time Law blinked he thought he saw his loved ones' deaths and Flevance burning. The surgeon shivered, something uncomfortable coiling inside him and making his skin go cold, and after a moment's deliberation he realized it was  _fear_.

"You know, leaving without greeting a house's owner is quite rude." The definitely- _not_ -a-man said pleasantly. "Then again, so is entering someone's home without permission."

"You're the Shadow Man." Luffy growled.

His grey forehead crinkled. "Is that what you've been calling me? Well, that name is actually not far from the truth. Let me properly introduce myself. I am Pitch Black, also known as the Nightmare King, the Fearling King, and the Spirit of Fear. Oh, and those aren't just nicknames. I mean  _literally_."

Shadows danced along the wall, creeping in like a closing maw, and Law instinctively gripped his nodachi tighter. He gritted his teeth, struggling to expand his Room. The ground was just outside of his range, hovering mockingly just above where he could teleport.

If he could, the surgeon would have swapped him and Luffy for an object to gain some distance before teleporting again, but there was nothing between the walkway and roof of the cave for him to move. His instincts also told him that if they reappeared in the cave, Pitch would kill them before they could even think to switch again.

Law saw Luffy's hand clench, but before he could stop the idiot, the Straw Hat Captain swung at the Nightmare King. Pitch leaned back lazily, easily avoiding the attack, and Luffy gave an angry cry, lunging forward with a pulled-back fist. The Spirit of Fear caught his strike with a casualness that made Law's skin crawl, and  _threw_  the young pirate at the surgeon.

Luffy hit Law with the force of a speeding train, sending them both crashing to the ground. The Heart Pirate felt a rib snap as his ally collided with him, and he let out a pained grunt as his back slammed into the stone floor. The Nightmares and Fearlings hissed and screeched around the crumpled pirates in what could only be their distorted version of laughter. Law breathed shallowly, each intake of air painful, and fought his already exhausted body's desire to fall into unconsciousness.

_I'm low on stamina. This isn't good._

Luffy got off of Law and helped him stand, expression taut with concern. "Sorry, Law." He apologized, before his sharp gaze returned to Pitch. The normally cheerful pirate bared his teeth in a snarl.

"You! You drew us here by copying Ace's voice." Luffy said darkly. "How could you use my dead brother like that!"

The Nightmare King stared at the Straw Hat Pirate in confusion for a moment, before his expression cleared. Pitch began to laugh, a joyful, but oddly disturbing sound that was a mix of a human's chortle and a demon's mocking cackle. He hunched over slightly and clutched at his stomach, almost lost in his mirth, but Law's knew better than to try to attack the Spirit when he was seemingly distracted. The Spirit of Fear composed himself and straightened, yellow eyes still glinting with a sadistic glee.

"Is that what you think? You really are an  _idiot_. I won't bother correcting you and waste more of my time. Long story short, I don't need you alive, Luffy. I just need a recognizable  _corpse_."

A black scythe formed in his hands, his arms already moving to swing the weapon, and Law forced all of his energy into expanding his Room, feeling something above ground enter his range.

The surgeon grabbed Luffy by the collar and switched them both with a log. As they appeared above ground, Law heard a loud, threatening  _shing_  as Pitch's scythe connected with the large chunk of wood that had replaced the humans. Based on the sound, the Nightmare King had been able to easily slice through the thick, resistant trunk.

The pirate expanded his Room again, switching them with another trunk, then did it again, and the space between them and Pitch increased rapidly. He had seen the so-called 'Spirit' walk out of the shadows, and knew he could appear from within any dark spot around them, but to his surprise Pitch did not rise from the depths with his scythe raised to kill.

Law had a feeling that the Nightmare King was not even trying to catch them.

With that in mind, he stopped moving himself and Luffy in his Room, breathing harshly as his already low stamina reached a near-critical point. Now that the danger had passed, Law could barely stay conscious, his vision swaying and darkening. He put a hand to his ribs and winced when he found the broken one. It did not seem to have punctured his lung, but  _damn_  did it hurt.

The Heart Pirate curled in on himself a little, focusing on breathing evenly. His previous exhaustion from all of the fighting was hindering his ability to power through the pain like he normally would and the surgeon was honestly surprised he had not collapsed yet.

"Good job, Traffy." Luffy said brightly. He noticed Law's closed eyes and waved his hand in the surgeon's face, nearly hitting his nose. "Oi. Oi. You can't go to sleep now."

Law barely had the energy to growl at him. "Broken… rib…" he managed to say through gritted teeth.

The Straw Hat Pirate's chipper mood instantly vanished. "Sorry, Traffy. We should go to Chopper. He can fix you."

Law merely nodded and looked in the direction of the ship. He spotted what appeared to be smoke on the horizon, visible even beneath the dark grey sky. Closer inspection revealed the 'smoke' was moving erratically, unnatural and precise, and it did not take long for the surgeon to realize that the substance was actually black sand.

Luffy followed Law's gaze, and pushed his hat down on his head "They're attacking the Sunny, aren't they?"

He started forward and paused, glancing back at Law and biting his lip. The surgeon shooed him away with a hand, still hunched against a tree with his other hand pressed against his chest.

"Go… without me…" Law said sternly. "I'll… catch up…"

Luffy nodded grimly, not arguing with the surgeon. Without another word, the pirate dove into the woods, racing to assist his friends.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Tree branches struck Luffy's limbs and face as he rushed through the forest, but he ignored the sharp wood, intent on reaching his destination. The sounds of battle reached his ears, with human shouts and animalistic shrieks echoing through the air, and the Straw Hat Pirate put on a burst of speed, reaching the beach at last.

Black sand and shadows swamped the air like a dark tornado, surrounding the Thousand Sunny and the occupants that desperately defended the ship. Luffy grabbed two trees and used them to launch himself forward, breaking through the swarm and landing neatly on the deck. Sanji nearly attacked his Captain but stopped his kick right in time, planning his feet solidly on the wood.

"Luffy! Where's Law?"

"Traffy was injured and told me to go ahead." Luffy explained as he struck a Nightmare that flew at him, sending it sprawling into its kin.

"He's injured and you left him  _alone_?" Nami demanded as she caught more enemies within her clouds, zapping them into oblivion.

"You guys needed help. Traffy can take care of himself." Luffy said stubbornly.

The Straw Hat Captain believed that with all his heart, but still felt a small trickle of guilt as he recalled that he was the reason Law had been injured in the first place. The thought was discarded as a Nightmare lunged for Luffy, who gave it a Red Hawk to the face. The fiery fist turned the black sand to glass an instant before the impact shattered it, making the rest of the sand crumble lifelessly to the deck.

"We need to get out of here. There's too many!" Franky growled reluctantly as he blew apart ten more foes.

"We can take them." Luffy said stubbornly, eager to fight.

"Idiot!" Nami snapped. "We've been fighting them since you ran off. Franky was barely able to stabilize the mast."

"…Oh." Luffy said, smile slipping.

He could see his friends' exhaustion now. Zoro was moving slower than usual, Nami's face was pinched, and even Robin's impassive visage held a tiredness that spoke of a long fight with no end in sight. They all looked weary and battered, many sporting bruises that matched the dark shadows under their eyes. It took a moment to process, but Luffy slowly comprehended that he had left his crew while they were in danger, had  _left_  them to fight alone, without him.

The realizations struck hard, and Luffy felt something cold settle in his chest. A group of Fearlings turned on him, and the Straw Hat Captain was forced to dodge as they slammed into the deck where he once stood, tearing the wood with their sharp claws. Zoro bisected the lot of them, eye narrowed dangerously even as it gleamed with excitement for the battle.

"I agree that we should retreat. We can't keep fighting them forever." The swordsman said as he stabbed two more Nightmares.

The ship rocked dangerously and Luffy peered over the railing, extending his arm to beat away the Nightmares that were crashing into the starboard side of the Sunny. Hands sprouted alongside the wood and Robin grabbed any Nightmares that came close, dispatching them easily.

"We need to wait for Law." The archeologist said calmly. "I hope these creatures haven't killed him."

_I hope the Shadow Man hasn't killed him_.  _He was really tired and that guy was strong._  Luffy thought, and the cold feeling got fiercer.

A distant memory of accusations and nightmares floated to the front of his mind, and something clenched painfully in the Straw Hat Pirate's chest.

" _You think they won't abandon you, when all you do is abandon others."_

" _You never care about anyone except your precious nakama, yet you fail, forget, and disregard them as easily as you do strangers, don't you?"_

The words came easily to Luffy's mind— easier than they should— and the rubber pirate's next blow only batted a Fearling away instead of killing it. The understanding that he had left an injured comrade alone in enemy territory slowly made its way into Luffy's thick skull, and the pirate felt something he rarely ever experienced: doubt and guilt.

In the middle of a battle, surrounded by his nakama minus an important person— two important people?— Luffy could not help but feel like he had made a mistake.

_I didn't abandon Law. I didn't. My nakama needed me—_

Ace's tired, hopeless face flashed through Luffy's mind and he barely dodged a Fearling's clawed swipe. Brook dispatched the enemy easily before dashing away to assist Usopp. Luffy could not focus, a terrible confusion clouding his mind as he dazedly fought the Nightmares.

_No, I'm worried about Law, not Ace. Ace wasn't actually there. He's dead. I didn't abandon him too._

Then why did he feel like he did?

"I see him!" Usopp shouted, pointing at the treeline.

Luffy followed the sniper's sharp gaze, spotting the surgeon limping towards their position, with a hand to his ribs. Even from a distance, the Straw Hat Pirate could see that Law was as pale as a ghost, stumbling and struggling to put one foot in front of the other.

Zoro slashed an opening through the Nightmares, shouting to his Captain. "Luffy, grab Law!"

Luffy shook himself. "Right!"

He stretched his arm, grabbing Law by his coat. The surgeon's tired expression shifted into one of resignation just before he was pulled forward, landing on the deck with an audible thud. Law's pained grey eyes briefly met Luffy's before they rolled back, and the Heart Pirate slumped limply to the floor.

"Oh no!" Chopper shrieked, dashing to the surgeon's side immediately.

A Nightmare dove for the fallen Law as well, but the reindeer kicked it away, sending it flying into the sea.

"Stay away from my patient!" the doctor snarled protectively.

Franky was already at the helm, shouting to his crewmates. "Clear a path! We need to get out to sea!"

With a nod, Nami forced the Nightmares away from the ship with blasts of wind, hair wild and messy as she continually sent forth bursts of lightning and air. Zoro sliced through another mass of foes, while Robin restrained and killed some more. Even Usopp was assisting, using smoke pellets and other distractions to block the Nightmare and Fearling's view.

All the while, Luffy stood in the center of the deck, staring down at the unconscious Law as Chopper worked over him frantically. The surgeon's coat and shirt were open, revealing bruising on his chest, and the doctor was carefully feeling the spot, expression dark with concern.

"The rib pierced his lung. I need to get him to the sick bay. Usopp, Luffy, carry him!" the doctor snapped.

Both pirates rushed to obey him, picking up the surgeon carefully. As he looked down at Law's pale face, Luffy's remorse could only grow.

_That's your fault_ , a voice whispered in the Straw Hat Captain's mind.  _ **You**_ _ **hurt your friend**_ _._

The coldness disappeared, and Luffy felt numb.

The Thousand Sunny gained speed, breaking free of the swarm of Nightmares, and they escaped to the open sea.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Pitch watched the pirates' ship sail further from the island. He ordered his minions to stop their pursuit of the vessel and they pulled back, clearing the air around the vessel.

_If you want something done, you need to do it yourself,_  the Nightmare King thought.

Pitch formed a large, menacing harpoon out of sand, drawing his hand back like he was holding a bow. The Spirit of Fear aimed for the ship, focusing on the stern. The vessel was moving quickly, but he remained unhurried, making sure his weapon would strike true. He wanted to merely disable the boat, not immediately sink it. He needed Monkey D. Luffy's body after all.

The ship drew farther away, fleeing to the ocean, and Pitch had to hold back a snort. The Nightmare King had caught and destroyed stars. Did this archaic vessel really think it could escape him?

Certain of his aim, Pitch poured potential energy into his harpoon, ready to launch it at the pirates' ship with a force that could pierce any matter—

An explosion ripped through the air, creating shockwaves that sent Pitch sprawling His harpoon flew harmlessly into the sea, soaring seamlessly into the waves. The Spirit of Fear stumbled back onto his feet and looked behind him, seeking out the cause of his fall. It was easy to spot the smoke that floated into the grey sky, looking almost white when compared to the dark clouds.

It didn't take the Nightmare King long to realize what had happened.

"No," Pitch whispered. " _No!_ "

As he watched, a small orange speck flew off in the opposite direction from where the Nightmare King stood. Its flight path was haphazard and wobbling, but the flier remaining airborne, flaring brightly as he gained speed. Rage ripped through Pitch's chest and he gathered black sand at his feet, shooting into the air in pursuit of the freed Hiken D. Ace.

" _Follow him!_ " Pitch roared at his minions. " _ **Don't let him escape!**_ "

The Fearlings and Nightmares he had called away from the ship rushed to obey.


	10. Escape from Shadow Island

_This isn't right…_

The thought rang through Ace's head even as he struggled to stay afloat in the middle of an endless ocean, a wave crashing over him and nearly forcing him into the depths of the sea. He was barely able to stay above the surface as he was violently pushed under by the uncaring flood. The fire-user did not fear for himself, but for the little brother that clung desperately to a piece of driftwood on the other side of the wreckage of a broken, flaming ship, holding on with barely enough strength to keep his head above the water.

No matter how fast Ace swam or how hard he fought against the waves, he could not reach Luffy. He could only watch with horror as his brother gradually weakened, his grip slackening with each pulse of the sea. Soon he would lose his hold on the only thing keeping him afloat, and Luffy would drown.

Ace had to make it in time. He had to save Luffy— to protect him. He made a promise.

_How did we get here…?_

Ace could not recall. He was not sure he wanted to. The ship was too big for two people to sail by themselves, and yet there were no other survivors floundering in the ocean. All Ace knew was that he and Luffy had ended up alone without a ship in the treacherous ocean, and if he did not get to his brother in time, he would die. Ace pushed against the water, yelping as another wave went over his head and filled his mouth with saltwater.

The  _boy-teen-man?_  burst above the surface, coughing loudly as the water clawed its way into his lungs and made them burn. He ignored his own pain and continued his fruitless struggle. He had to save Luffy. He had to reach him.

_This isn't real…_

Ace wanted to believe that. He truly did. He wanted to pretend that he and Luffy were home and safe on Dawn Island. But they weren't. They were here, shipwrecked, desperate,  _alone_ , and with only Ace to rescue them both.

He had to reach him. He could not let his brother die. If Ace lost Luffy— if Luffy perished because Ace failed to save him— the older brother knew he would not have a reason to keep living. Losing Luffy would be worse then losing anyone else, because Luffy was good and pure and  _deserved_  to live, unlike his older brother.

Unlike the monster with demon's blood.

The blue waters darkened, turning an inky black. As Ace watched, Luffy released the driftwood, slipping silently beneath the waves. The older brother cried out in fear and the black liquid went into his mouth, cold and empty. It filled his lungs and his head and his limbs and his eyes, until nothing remained but an infinite darkness both inside and out.

The darkness became as thick as molasses, squeezing its victim like an over-sized hand and demanding that he submit to its deadly embrace. Ace refused to submit. He floundered and fought as he drowned, reaching blindly for his brother, even as he lost his sight and his arms went numb. Because he did not matter. Luffy did. Only Luffy. He had to save—

Two hands gripped Ace's, unhindered by the blackness, and pulled him upward.

He broke the surface, taking in cool gulps of oxygen. His vision instantly cleared, light and feeling returning to his world, and his eyes fell upon his saviors. Jack floated above the black ocean with a smiling Luffy clinging to his back, the Guardian easily supporting them both safely above the dark sea. The Straw Hat Pirate laughed and waved at Ace, eyes shining with an excitement and joy the fire-user thought may have been lost. But it was the man that sat in a sturdy wooden boat that drew Ace's attention.

The man's face was shadowed by his blue top hat, but any uneasiness that might be caused by his darkened features was negated by his familiar, glowing smile. Even though he was hidden in darkness, Ace knew who he was, for he still wore the ridiculous cravat and tailcoat he had cherished back when he was a child. The fire-user watched his mouth move, words unable to reach his deafened ears, but felt himself calming merely by being with the other.

With Sabo.

He and Luffy were not alone anymore. Jack and Sabo were there. They could help Ace protect Luffy. They would help make sure he did not fall.

Jack set Luffy down in the boat with Sabo, and Ace's three brothers all smiled encouragingly at the fire-user. The blonde offered his hand to Ace, but before he could accept it, the darkness pulled at the vessel. Stretching and writhing, it crawled up the sides of the small boat, trying to get to Luffy,  _always_  Luffy.

Jack beat it back with bolts of ice but it was undeterred, lunging and flaring angrily as it fought to reach their little brother. Sabo did nothing to defend Luffy. He remained unalarmed by the swirling darkness, continuing to serenely offer his hand to Ace as he silently spoke. And suddenly, the fire-user knew what his blonde brother was saying.

_Wake up._

Ace did not want to. Not now that he and Luffy were relatively safe. Not now that Jack and Sabo were here with him, like they should be. It was true they were being overcome by the shadowy waves, but he did not want to leave this dream…

But it wasn't all a dream, was it?

Recollection came slowly to Ace, and he remembered the words that the darkness tried to erase, words that rekindled the hope he thought had been destroyed.

" _Sabo is alive."_

The darkness was not cold anymore. In fact, the fire-user could no longer feel it at all. It was almost as if it could not touch him anymore, even though he was trapped in its embrace. Ace met Sabo's vaguely visible blue gaze and his brother's triumphant smile widened.

_Wake up_ , he urged.  _Come find me._

That was right. Sabo was alive. Sabo was out there, in the real world, not this nightmare Ace thought he was stuck in. The fire-user did not look away from Sabo as the boat was overcome by the darkness, an odd feeling that was  _not_ fear overwhelming him as his brothers appeared to die in front of him again.

For the first time in a long time, he was serene as he observed the horrors around him, knowing full well it all was fake.

_**Wake up!** _

Ace woke in his cell with a gasp. He opened his eyes, blurry vision gradually clearing, and peered at his surroundings with a fragile hopefulness he did not understand. Memory struck and he looked around more wildly, heart sinking when he saw he was alone.

Before the fire-user could plunge into depression, a small squeak sounded and the Mini Fairy that had been with Luffy's friend Law fluttered out of Ace's discarded boot. The Fairy— Baby Tooth— flew into the Summer Spirit's face, chirping in concern. Ace could only look at her in awe.

_You're real_ , he thought, feeling something… bright.  _It was all real._

He cupped his hands and she landed in them, a tiny, soft spot of warmth against his chilled skin. Ace could not bring himself to smile, but even the simple inclination to do such a thing was an improvement over how he had been before.

All thanks to the little Fairy in his hands, and a man he did not personally know.

Ace could not be more grateful to Baby Tooth, even though her assistance had been mostly unintentional. When Luffy had appeared before his door, Ace had assumed he was another figment of his imagination. The presence of his friend— Law— had confused Ace slightly, but it was not until Baby Tooth had revealed herself that the Summer Spirit had realized his brother actually existed.

There had been no reason for his nightmares to involve one of Tooth's Mini Fairies, and it was that thought that made Ace understand that Pitch had likely drawn his brother to his lair. It was not difficult to think of why. Ignoring the part of him that wanted to reunite with Luffy and his questions on how the Straw Hat Pirate had come to find Pitch's lair in the first place, Ace had made his brother disbelieve, knowing full well that would make him invisible to the pirate.

He was thankful that Law had gone along with his plan, the understanding in his grey eyes making Ace feel that Luffy had someone to rely on in the mysterious pirate. When the fire-user escaped, he would have to thank the man.

Not if he escaped.  _When._

Because Law did not just help him get Luffy out of the lair. He gave Ace something to get himself out as well. News the fire-user could not believe, yet knew the man would not mention unless it were true.

" _Sabo is alive."_

The moment he heard those words, something ignited in Ace's chest. The drive he thought had vanished had returned, just like the blonde brother he once believed had perished.

Sabo was out there. He was not dead. He was alive.

Ace could not think of a reason why his brother had refrained from showing himself to him and Luffy, but trusted that Sabo had his excuses. The fire-user was not upset with Sabo for his inability to contact him and Luffy because he himself had avoided Luffy for three years, doing the exact the same thing. No longer.

Ace was going to break out of and reunite with his brothers— all three of them.

The fire-user felt the black sand try to drag him into nightmares again but he resisted, listening intently as Baby Tooth chattered aimlessly about her adventures since she had arrived on this world. The Mini Fairy seemed to have a basic understanding of what was going on with Ace, and had apparently decided that her stories and gentle nudging might keep the fire-user focused and awake. The Summer Spirit silently appreciated her attempts to keep him alert.

It was quite the odd situation that the two friends of Jack Frost had met under. Ace could not hold a conversation with the Fairy or even introduce himself, for his voice had failed after he had spoken with Law. His lack of speaking and overabundance of screaming had finally caught up with him, and the Summer Spirit was effectively mute. Every dry cough caused his throat to ache and small amounts of blood to drip from his lips, and the only sounds he could make were soft croaks if he pushed himself.

However, Baby Tooth was unperturbed by the Summer Spirit's lack of voice, remaining determinedly bright and cheerful in stark contrast to their surroundings. She told stories to pass the time, tapped him on the nose and cheeks if he began to drift off, and stayed in his hands or near his face as a warm, soft reminder that she was there, and  _real_.

It the short amount of time he had known her for, Ace could see why Jack liked the Mini Fairy so much. She was smart, determined, feisty, and unafraid and the fire-user knew that without her he would have fallen asleep and been overcome by nightmares a thousand times over again already.

_You've been hanging out with Luffy's friend, Law?_  Ace thought in response to her latest topic of conversation. He recalled Luffy's friend's stiff demeanor and a small smile threatened to curl his lips.  _He seems like the life of the party._

As if she could hear his thoughts, Baby Tooth enthusiastically— but quietly— told the Summer Spirit about Law's grumpiness and only-sane-man tendencies among the Straw Hat Pirates. Ace listened to the Mini Fairy complain about the idiocy of the people she hung out with and felt the foreign urge to smile again. The desire only grew stronger when she quickly assured him that the Summer Spirit was not an idiot of course, but  _why_  did her companions always have to follow the voice and go into the dark creepy lair?

Ace chuckled mutely as Baby Tooth continued to rant, knowing she was over exaggerating her feelings and tale to keep him distracted. It was working— partially— so her efforts were greatly welcomed.

The fire-user's eyes glazed and he gritted his teeth, shoving away the black sand's tiring murmurs once more. He refused to fall asleep again. Who knew how many hours or days he had lost during his last bout of nightmares? He could not lose any more time.

He had to get out. Sabo was alive and Ace had to find him.

_That's right. Sabo is alive. My brother. He's alive. He's okay. They're_ _**both** _ _okay._

A feeling Ace could not identify ignited in his chest. He winced as warmth flared through his body, hurting in a way similar to the pain one felt if they stuck their hand in hot water after being outside in the cold. The fire-user ignored the ache and gripped the heat instead, refusing to let it go.

Baby Tooth flinched in his grasp and fluttered away from him, chirping worriedly. Ace tried to give her a reassuring look, still unable to smile.

_It's okay. I... I think I have my fire back._

And he did. He could not claim that he had regained his powers fully— not by a long shot— but he could feel his flames reigniting, jolts of heat and pain stabbing through his body.

_Sabo is alive,_  Ace recalled again, savoring the thought, and again the flames burned brighter.  _I_ _ **have**_ _to find him._

Before he registered what he was doing, Ace was on his feet, staring unseeingly at the cell door that stood between him and freedom— him and his lost brother. Could he do this? Was he strong enough to free himself? To his surprise, the voice did not make a snide comment to make him doubt himself, and his only thought was ' _Yes_ '.

Baby Tooth seemed to understand what was happening and retreated to the corner of the room, fluttering nervously. Ace nodded at her and took a breath, closing his eyes and reaching for the warmth— the flames— in his chest.

The fire  _hurt_.

Ace could feel the inferno clashing with the black sand, parts of his body feeling as if it were being twisted and shredded as the two opposites collided. The Summer Spirit struggled through the pain, focusing on heating up his ankles.

He felt a surge of triumph as the metal turned a reddish-white, melting on his skin. Much to his relief, the scalding iron did not burn him. Ace watched the liquid iron drip to the floor, shaking his foot to discard the excess. The coldness of the black sand tried to snatch him again but he dismissed it.

_Sabo is alive. I have to find him._  He repeated.

_I have to find_ _**them** _ _._

The fire-user placed his palms on the iron door, heating them rapidly. The grate collapsed before him pathetically— no longer capable of containing him— as the melted metal slumped into a puddle on the ground. Ace stepped over it, unbothered by the heat wafting off the liquidized material.

The stone floor was cold against his bare feet as he hobbled along, step by wobbly step, using the wall as support. Baby Tooth stayed close, darting ahead and back as she scouted for Nightmares, Fearlings, and Pitch and chirping encouragingly as she cheered him onward.

Ace kept one of his hands on fire despite it making him more visible in the dark. It was a risk he had to take. He was unwilling to discover if he could or could not reignite if he let the flames go out.

They made it to a walkway, and Ace looked up at the hole in the ceiling curiously, watching as the moving clouds and soft light made strange patterns on the floor. He found himself lost in the swirling, smoke-like shadows for a moment, picking out patterns among the wisps on the ground and having the odd urge to smile once more.

A hiss redirected his attention back to his surroundings and Baby Tooth hovered close to his head as Fearlings and Nightmares stalked towards the Spirits, splitting from the shadows. Ace eyed them blankly, and that strange feeling trickled through him again.

The emotion seeping through his veins was not anger or fear like he expected, but an unfamiliar, glowing one that made his heart lighten and a kind warmth rush through his chilled body. Because Sabo was alive. Luffy was okay. Jack was looking for him. And Ace…

…Ace would escape.

Happiness and determination burst to life in Ace's chest and he laughed without a sound, letting his rekindled flames free.

The explosion of fire was large and glorious, breaking more of the ground above his head and letting moonlight into Pitch's lair as it tore through the clouds far above. The Summer Spirit blinked rapidly at the inferno, spotting dashes of white dancing among the orange flames before he was momentarily blinded by his own creation. Fire-colored eyes squeezed shut, unable to take the intensity of color after being in the dark for so long. Ace listened to the roaring flames, feeling comforted by their presence, and let them run wild and demolish his foes. Any nearby Nightmares were turned to glass, unintentionally forming a wall between Ace and his numerous enemies, while Fearlings dissipated into nothing when faced with the overwhelming pulse of fire and heat.

The fire-user's vision cleared and he took a moment to stand in the dull light, closing his eyes again and breathing deeply. Baby Tooth prodded his cheek, emitting a squeak, and Ace looked at her, smiling for what seemed to be the first time in forever.

He planted his feet and called flames to his limbs despite the slight pain the action caused. Ace gritted his teeth, and slowly began to hover, rising awkwardly but steadily as he floated out of the lair. He rose above ground, and landed clumsily beside the hole he had made, looking around at the trees and dark grey sky. The black woods and dark clouds would have been menacing and scary to almost everyone else, but to the fire-user the sight of such ominous things meant something other than fear.

They meant he had escaped.

It was then that realization struck him, and Ace's slowly lightening heart brightened further, burning with a joy and passion he thought would be lost to him forever. The fire-user gave a whoop and launched himself into the sky, shooting towards the clouds. They were wet and cool, and he giggled silently as he drifted through them, enjoying the sensation of the moisture against his skin.

He could not fly nearly as quickly as normal, but he was airborne. He was out.

He was  _free_.

A low rumble made Ace flip around as he flew, soaring backwards with the wind rushing past him as he sought out the source of the noise behind him. A wave of black sand hurtled towards the Summer Spirit, hundreds of yellow eyes gleaming from within the mass of darkness.

Ace found himself smirking at the Nightmares and Fearlings, putting on a burst of speed and lengthening the distance between himself and Pitch's minions. A few Nightmares tried to block his path but he burned them to ashes, smiling all the while as he evaded and destroyed the enemies that got near.

They were trying to get between him and his brothers. They were trying to get between him and his freedom. He would not let anyone stop him. Not now. He had to find Sabo, find Jack, find Luffy. Sabo was alive, Jack was out there, Luffy needed him. He had to reach them, to locate them, to reunite his family once more.

Mindful of Baby Tooth, Ace spun in midair, sending out a cyclone of flames, and watched the glass tunnel he created in his wake fall from the sky and shatter into the sea below. A tiny, arrogant part of the fire-user wanted to linger and massacre all of his pursuers— including the Nightmare King that was no doubt following the swarm— but he ignored the urge, focusing on what was important.

_Find Sabo. Find Luffy. Find Jack._

After being lost and confused for so long, Ace finally had a goal, a mission, a  _dream_. He had to reunite with all three of his separated brothers and bring them together again.

And he was  _not_  going to die trying.

Disregarding his pursuers, the fire-user decreased his altitude and flew just above the waves, spotting his reflection in the ocean below as he soared above it. Ace extended an arm and dipped his hand below the surface of the sea, causing small ripples to form in his wake. For a moment he was content to enjoy the feeling of the cool water on his palm, another smile tugging at his lips as the liquid ran through his fingers. He never thought he would see the ocean again.

Baby Tooth chirped a warning as Ace's danger sense tingled, and he swerved out of the way of a nasty-looking black arrow. The Summer Spirit turned as he continued to soar, narrowing his eyes at Pitch. Good. If the Spirit of Fear was after Ace, he was not chasing Luffy. The fire-user was uncertain how long ago his brother had left the island, but Pitch's lack of taunting told Ace that Luffy was not in the Nightmare King's clutches.

Pitch looked livid, his face set in a snarl that oozed pure malice. Ace smirked at him and channeled his inner Jack, sticking his tongue out at the Spirit of Fear. He had to immediately evade another arrow but Pitch's furious expression made it worth it.

_I need to lose him. I can't fight him now_ , Ace thought logically.  _I have to get out of here. I need to get to my brothers._

It hurt to admit it, but Ace had to leave— to retreat.

The cursed pride he inherited from Roger tried to rear its head but Ace smothered the instinct to stand and fight— not run— with the mere thought of Akainu. He could not afford to make the same mistake that cost him his mortal life.

He spotted an island below and dove down, flying rapidly between buildings as he tried to make a plan to hide from Pitch. He had just gotten his freedom back. He was not going to lose it again, not now, not ever.

With Baby Tooth at his side, Ace swooped below an awning, turning quickly around a corner, then another. He flew over a tall building, springing off of a chimney, and twisted in midair to soar upward. The fire-user landed on top of a brightly-lit building.

He looked around, ready for an attack. For the moment, nothing popped out of the shadows to assault him, but the Summer Spirit did not relax his stance. The full moon shone down upon him, covering the rooftop with its glow. Ace did not know if Manny was watching, but for the first time in a long time he felt safe.

Instinct made him dodge and Pitch's spear hit the rooftop. The Nightmare King pulled the blade free, advancing menacingly.

"Are you done running away, Ace?" he asked darkly. "Have you decided to face me and stop being a  _coward_  like the rest of your pathetic family?"

Ace froze.

_Don't do it_ , the logical section of his mind screamed.  _Don't do this again!_

Baby Tooth seemed to agree with his survival instinct's desperate shouts, pulling at Ace's hair and pleading with him to run. But the fire-user could already feel the hot-headed recklessness taking over, his blood boiling and heart pounding with anger as he turned to glare at the Nightmare King. Flames flickered along his skin, warm and furious, and his entire body burned with rage.

_I never run from a fight_ , he thought.

Pitch smirked.

Ace sent forth a cyclone of flames, not nearly as strong as his usual but still impressive. The Nightmare King stepped out of the way of the inferno with a casual air, simultaneously forming a scythe in his hands. The fire-user darted forward with blazing palms, ducking beneath Pitch's swing and blasting him at point blank range with his fire.

To his surprise, Pitch was only slightly singed, but he took the opportunity to sink into the shadows. Ace anticipated his next move and spun, kicking the Nightmare King solidly in the gut as he rose behind him. Pitch stumbled backwards and swung at Ace, scythe elongating to an impossible size as it sliced through the air. The Summer Spirit evaded each blow, dancing backwards and swaying out of the blade's path.

_Pitch is stronger this time,_  Ace noted grimly. The next scythe swing nearly gave him a haircut at the neck.  _And faster._

He dodged two more attacks, jerking sideways when the weapon shifted into a stabbing spear. Pitch went for a fierce downward slash and Ace barely avoided the move, feeling a rush of displaced air as the pointy end went past his ear. He threw out five quick fireballs, sending out another two small, green ones close to the ground. The Nightmare King batted away the larger flames, not noticing the emerald fireflies until they exploded near his feet.

The Spirit of Fear flew back a few feet, but landed like a cat, not even knocked on his bottom. Frustration visible on his face, Pitch threw a wave of sand at the fire-user, blocking out the sky and moon. Ace did not pause to stare at the menacing tsunami, responding with his own fireball and the sand and fire collided. The outer layer of the wave turned to glass, and the fire-user took a second to breathe, legs trembling slightly.

The black sand in his veins pulled angrily at his consciousness and he swayed, vision darkening.

_The sand. I'm still tired. Damm—_

The glass exploded in a burst of black sand, sending Ace and Baby Tooth flying. He threw up his hands to protect his face and gave a shocked cry as shards sank into his skin. The fire-user landed on the rooftop and skidded along the stone, back stinging. He immediately leapt to his feet, scanning the area. Pitch was nowhere in sight.

The Summer Spirit ignited his hands once more, and spotted a darting shadow on the wall. He shot tiny bullet-like flames at the figure, only for Pitch to laugh mockingly.

" _You never learn, do you?"_  The Nightmare King's voice echoed eerily and he gave another cackle.  _"Foolish boy. You stand even less of a chance now than you did before. Not only are you **weaker** , but  **I**  am  **stronger**."_

Ace spun in a circle, seeking out every detail on the darkened rooftop. The air shifted behind him and he turned, hands raised defensively as Pitch split from the shadows and swung at Ace with his sword. Before the blow could connect the Nightmare King gave a pained bellow, stumbling backwards as a small turquoise figure flew into his face and punched him solidly in the eye.

Baby Tooth gave a defiant squeak as she darted in for another strike. Too quick for Ace to act, Pitch grabbed the Mini Fairy, expression livid, and threw her as hard as he could. The fire-user tried to scream but no sound came out as Baby Tooth struck the wall, falling limply to the ground in a ball of crumpled feathers.

Pitch watched her tumble, and  _laughed_.

The Summer Spirit's horror became rage and he  _exploded_ , fire bursting from his body in a pillar that reached the sky and set the building ablaze. Pitch was thrown back by the furious flames, but regained his footing, sidestepping to evade Ace's blue-tinged fireball and responding with his own shadowy spears.

The fire-user avoided the dark lances, hearing them impact the ground behind him. Ace could feel himself tiring, his flames growing smaller, but he dashed forward and engaged anyway, fist igniting as he swung for Pitch's head. The Nightmare King dodged the punch and his following three blows, the smile never leaving his face—

There was the sound of a blade piercing flesh.

Ace gasped, eyes widening with pain. He looked down at the sword hilt sticking from his chest in shock, and a shudder went through his frame. Pitch observed the Summer Spirit's numb confusion with a chuckle, studying him with amusement as Ace's mind refused to comprehend what had happened, his mouth opening and closing silently.

An involuntary whimper escaped Ace's lips and his shaking fingers scrabbled at the hilt of the sword, failing to grab it. The Nightmare King smirked sadistically as he watched the fire-user writhe like a fish on a hook, twisting the blade cruelly. Blood trickled over his and the Ace's hands, staining them both red, and dripped onto the rooftop between them. The fire-user gave a choked gurgle and more crimson splashed over his chin.

"You died with a blow to the back when you were human." Pitch murmured, releasing his grip on the sword hilt. "I thought I might as well do the opposite, for a matching  _set!_ "

Pitch kicked Ace hard in the gut as he shouted the last word, sending the Summer Spirit flying off the roof and plummeting to the cold ground in an alleyway. The fire-user hit the cobblestone with a thud and the air was knocked out of his lungs. He heard the sword snap where it had exited his back, the broken part of the blade cutting into his skin as he landed on it. Another bolt of pain accompanied the ache in his chest and if he had a voice he would have screamed.

Ace moaned, struggling to sit up as he grasped feebly at the remains of black sword still in his chest. He managed to wrap his fingers around the hilt, but his attempt to remove the blade only caused him to nearly black out. The fire-user gave up on his panic-induced goal, shifting his arms and legs in an effort to rise to his feet. All he managed to do was get to his knees, leaning heavily to one side as he barely remained conscious. Each breath felt like someone was grabbing his lungs and squeezing them with hands full of broken glass. The Nightmare King landed lightly beside the fire-user, straightening with a casual air.

"Why did you have to do this, Ace? Why did you have to escape? If you had just stayed put, you might have lasted longer. Oh well. At least you put up a better fight than the last Spirit of Summer, I'll give you that." Pitch said sincerely as he walked slowly towards the injured fire-user.

He reached down and ripped the sword from the fire-user's chest.

Ace let out a silent, agonized scream, his damaged vocal chords unable to voice his pain. With every beat of his heart he felt more blood drip down his front and back, and he found his mind being pulled back to his last moments in Marineford. Ace pressed a hand to his chest injury, trying to stem the flow, but his palm became sticky in seconds. He pulled his hand away, shocked to see the large amount of red coating his fingers.

"Do you see now?" Pitch asked gently. "You are not as invincible as you think you are. Foolish boy. You really should have learned your lesson from last time."

Ace tried to sit up again but his strength failed him. He was barely able to breathe, each intake of air being accompanied by a gurgling wheeze. Pitch had run him through exactly where Akainu had impaled him, but unlike with the Admiral, the wound was smaller and had not caused in his organs to be burnt to a crisp. The fire-user could not decide whether this injury was less or more painful than the one that caused his previous death.

_I'm going to die again_ , he realized with a jolt.  _I'm going to die I'm gonna die I'mgonnadie_ —

Pitch approached with slow, deliberate steps, savoring his victory as he sauntered towards the injured Spirit. "It's truly a shame. You are quite powerful, worthy of being one of my allies. Too bad your arrogance is going to cause your death…  _Again_."

He kicked Ace in the side, directly on his infected wound and caused him to let out a silent gasp. The Nightmare King's next blow— to the gut— made the Summer Spirit slam into the wall, blood splattering onto the bricks as he slid to the ground. Black spots danced in front of Ace's eyes and the weaker side of him began to wish he would just fall into unconsciousness already. Pitch stalked over to him again like a hunting tiger playing with its food, eyes gleaming with loathing and rage.

"Where's your precious  _family_  now, Ace? Hmm? Where's your brothers? Where's Jack? You should have known they wouldn't bother to save you. You should have known they would abandon you. You're worthless. You're a monster.  _Why would anyone care for you?!_ "

Pitch kicked the fallen Summer Spirit in the stomach and chest repeatedly, fury in his every blow. Ace curled up, hand pressed against his wound, and flinched with each harsh strike. A foot met his head and his skull cracked against the concrete, his sight blurring and doubling. For a moment it wasn't Pitch attacking and hating him, but Luffy, and all the fire-user could do was silently apologize.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't see you again. I'm sorry I broke my promise. I'm sorry…_

The hallucination faded and Pitch ceased his frenzied attack, breathing heavily. Ace trembled on the ground, eyed half-closed as his vision swam. The Nightmare King grabbed the fire-user's chin, lifting him slightly and meeting his pained orange eyes.

"Still alive?" Pitch questioned. "How stubborn of you. Don't worry, Ace. It's over now. I'm finally going to let you  _sleep_."

Ace could not respond. The Nightmare King scoffed and threw the fire-user against the wall, leaving him slumped beside the brick in a sitting position.

The Summer Spirit slowly met the Spirit of Fear's gaze and refused to avert his eyes from Pitch's own. He was ashamed to note that he could not die with a smile this time. He had too much that he wanted to do— too much unfinished business, too many regrets— to die with a grin now. At least he was still unafraid of death itself. Pitch had not taken that from him.

Pitch raised his spear above his head and Ace looked up at him blankly, quietly accepting his demise. There was still no fear, but there was regret.

_Luffy, Jack, Sabo… I'm sorry I didn't make it back._

Pitch stiffened.

His arm shook, and a pained expression crossed his face. It was quickly followed by an array of emotions, his visage shifting too quickly for Ace to identify any of his thoughts. The Nightmare King stayed in that position for a long while, spear held aloft, body rigid, and as the minutes passed he still did not kill the Summer Spirit. The fire-user could only stare in confusion as the Spirit of Fear lowered his weapon, refraining from dealing the finishing blow.

"You'll die soon anyway." Pitch said coldly.

The Nightmare King turned on his heel and vanished into the shadows, leaving a wounded Ace alone.

Ace watched him go, hand pressed uselessly to his wound. His remaining energy abandoned him and he slumped fully to the ground, the wall unable to support him any longer. The cobblestone alley was icy and slick against his skin, and he could only observe dispassionately as his blood flowed outward in a pool around him.

A new, but familiar coldness was gripping Ace's limbs, and he realized that he was indeed dying again. The fire-user's hand slipped from his injury, unable to stem the flow of blood any longer, and he watched the puddle of crimson around him grow larger.

The thought of his brothers rose to the forefront of his mind and he closed his eyes, picturing Luffy, Jack, and Sabo. A solitary tear trickled down his cheek.

_I'm going to die because of my pride again. I deserve this. It's my fault. I'm so stupid._ Ace thought distantly, unable to feel the cold stone against his back anymore.  _Jack, Luffy, Sabo… I'm so sorry…_

He was going to leave them again. Permanently, this time. Luffy and Sabo would never know he had been resurrected unless Law told them. Jack would be alone again, searching fruitlessly for the brother he would never find. Oyaji and the others would not have a clue he had ever lived past twenty. The Guardians would never know him.

As for Ace himself…

_I want to do so much more. I want to live._

The thought was sudden but strong, and Ace forced his heavy eyes open.

_I want to live,_ he repeated. _I_ _ **want**_ _to live. For them and for_ _ **me**_ _. There's so much I need to do. I can't die here. I_ _ **won't**_ _._

He had fought so hard to survive the black sand, to escape his prison, and to regain his freedom. He was not going to let Pitch make all his effort be for nothing.

_Think of my brothers. Think of the Whitebeard Pirates. I want to see them again._

Ace shifted, shaking slightly as he put a hand over his chest injury once more. He knew it was pointless because of the blood dripping from the exit wound in his back, but right then he would do anything that would even partially stem the flow of blood and delay his demise just a little bit.

_I want to meet the Guardians— The real ones. North, Sandy, Bunny, Tooth, the Man in the Moon. I want to hug Luffy, find Sabo, and fly over the ocean with Jack. I want to explore the Earth, usher in Summer, just live and be free…_

Logic told him that there was no chance of him surviving. Only Jack would be able to see him, and the likelihood of the Winter Spirit finding him here was so far in the negatives it was laughable. The probability of a passing human being able to see and assist him was even lower. But Ace refused to accept his fate and let death take him, refused to let it separate him from his family again.

_I can't give up. I need to hold on. Just a little longer._

A shudder went through Ace and he coughed up flecks of crimson, feeling it dribble down his cheek. The fire-user forced his body to keep breathing, even as his vision darkened. It hurt so badly but he clung to the pain. It let him know he was still living, still fighting.

_Hold on… Just hold on…_

Ace's eyes slipped closed once more and the pain lessened, growing distant as his senses deserted him.

He thought of his three brothers, and wondered what Sabo looked like now. He thought of the Whitebeard Pirates, and imagined their shock when they saw him again. He thought of the Guardians, and looked forward to meeting them. He thought of Baby Tooth, and hoped she was all right.

He would see his brothers again. He would reunite with Oyaji and Marco and the others. He would finally be introduced to the legendary Guardians. He would thank Baby Tooth and Law.

He would  _live_.

_Hold on. Hold on._

"…Hold on…!"

Strange, but Ace thought he heard someone's voice…

And then everything was gone.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Being the First Mate of a Yonko was a tiresome job. There were crewmates to supervise, upstart rookies to fight, missions to hand out, paperwork to complete, and moronic Marines to ruthlessly defeat, humiliate, or ignore. But first and foremost a First Mate must look after their Captain.

Benn Beckmann loved his Captain and his duty, he truly did, but at times he felt that Shanks was the most difficult of the Four Yonko to deal with.

Despite being known as a partier by many, it was rare for Shanks to actually get fall-on-the-floor drunk. He pretended to be intoxicated and obtuse often enough, his naturally laid back, benign personality only adding to the image of unbothered casualness and drunken apathy he portrayed, but in reality rarely went past the tipsy stage of drinking. Shanks could handle his alcohol, and so being drunk was usually not the reason why he was whining at his First Mate.

Instead he complained because he was being dragged away from booze without being even slightly buzzed.

"But  _Bennnnnn_." Shanks wailed in a voice that reminded his First Mate of a two year-old. "I barely had a bottle. Why are you being so stingy?"

If Benn had less respect for his Captain, he would be pulling him along by his ear through the street. Or by his precious red hair. Luckily for Shanks, the First Mate had decided marching him away by his arm with a gun held in his hand was warning enough.

"We aren't here to party." The First Mate of the Red Hair Pirates reminded his Captain sternly. "We're here to meet with Whitebeard, remember? You'll drink enough with him."

Shanks frowned at him, unimpressed. "That's never kept me from hitting the bars before. And you've never stopped me. What's so different this time?"

_This time, I don't think you'd stop_. Benn thought but did not say.

He knew his Captain well enough to recognize the strained, distant look in his eyes. It was the stare that Shanks gained when self-respect and restraint went out the window, replaced by a deep worry and Sea King-sized pile of stress. Benn suspected that if he let the red-haired Yonko go through with his usual partying now, he and Whitebeard would end up in a war rather than a peaceful meeting due to the younger Captain destroying a chunk of the Strongest Man's island in a drunken rage. The fact that Shanks had left all of his crew except Benn at the Red Force while he went to a bar only supported his theory.

"You're scaring the locals." Was all Benn said, tipping his head slightly in the direction of two nervous-looking civilians.

Shanks gave them an easy-going smile, which neither returned. Instead they fled into a building as if a giant man-eating tiger were on their tails, the door slamming behind them. Both pirates heard the locks click audibly.

"Huh. Tough crowd." The Yonko muttered. "They don't actually think that door would stop us? Do they?" He added after a pause.

"They're probably just waiting for Whitebeard to show up and kick us off the island." Benn said in a bland tone. "He won't be happy that you asked to meet on one of  _his_  territories."

Shanks shrugged. "He's the one who agreed to it." A shadow crossed his features. "I think he has an idea of what is happening too."

Benn did not ask what his Captain was talking about. He was uncertain of the exact reason why Shanks had requested an audience with Whitebeard, but knew it had to do with all of the disappearances and strange attacks that had been happening throughout the world. The red-haired Yonko was being surprisingly tight-lipped about the whole affair, changing the subject or making distractions when asked about it, and Benn had long ago accepted that Shanks would tell him more about the situation when he wanted to. Still, it was odd for him to be so secretive.

"I'm surprised that Whitebeard allowed us to come here." Shanks commented as he stretched his arm over his head and cracked his neck. He continued a few more paces with a leisurely gait, and a smile crossed his face. "I guess the old man trusts me enough not to blow something u—"

An explosion ripped through the air, sending waves of heat towards the two pirates. Shanks's hair was visibly blown back from his face, the red strands settling messily when the gust of wind ceased. The Captain and First Mate looked up to see fire burst into the sky, and impressive inferno reaching for the clouds. The few remaining civilians in the street scrambled into their homes, some screaming loudly as they ran away from the flames. Shanks was already moving, racing towards the blast with Benn at his side.

"On record, I did  _not_  do it." The Yonko said awkwardly.

Benn merely grunted, pulling out his other gun. It took longer than the pirates liked to make their way through the maze-like streets to the site, but the Yonko and First Mate eventually halted before the building where the explosion had originated, peering upward. To Benn's surprise, there was hardly a blaze on the roof, the remaining fire going out as he watched.

_Based on the size of that explosion, the building should be rubble. A Devil Fruit, perhaps?_  He mused, stumped by the lack of damage.  _Or maybe it wasn't an explosion, but a firestorm..._

Next to him, Shanks surveyed the ground, no doubt looking for injured people. His gaze rested on the dark alleyway next to the now not-burning building and he drew in a breath.

" _Shit._ "

The Yonko darted forward into the dark, kneeling down next to something Benn could not see and reaching out. He jerked, flinching backwards violently, and the First Mate raced to his Captain's side, prepared for the threat that had caused Shanks to react so.

There was nothing there.

Benn only saw an empty alley, but Shanks swore out loud.

"Damn it all!"

His hand pressed against thin air, his eyes focused and hard as he let loose another string of curses. The First Mate could only watch his Captain's actions in bewilderment, unable to comprehend what he was doing, unless, unless…

_Is something there?_

"Hold on!" Shanks said forcefully. "Hold on, kid. You can't die here. Luffy will want to see you again." He turned to Benn, eyes burning with a frantic light. "Why are you just standing there? Help me!"

Benn's mouth moved wordlessly for a second. Eventually he found his voice. "Captain, there's nothing there."

Still pressing against air, Shanks whirled to fully face his First Mate. Benn balked at the expression on his face. It was a rare for him to ever see the Yonko so angry and so scared.

"Are you kidding—? Benn, Portgas D. Ace is laying here,  _bleeding to death_. He needs  _help!_ "

Benn could not believe it. For a moment, he thought he had to be dreaming. Why else would his Captain be acting so oddly— even for him— claiming that Monkey D. Luffy's already-dead brother was currently dying in the alleyway?

Shanks was not the type to joke about such things. Nor was he drunk or crazy enough to see hallucinations. Benn knew his Captain, trusted the man more than anyone else, and if he said Portgas D. Ace was  _there_  then that meant—

And Benn saw him.

Fire Fist Ace materialized before his eyes, limp and pale under Shanks's bloody hand. Crimson covered his skin, along with strange black markings that made Benn's stomach churn at the mere sight of them. But it was the gaping wound in the kid's chest that worried the First Mate the most, and his questions and shock were shoved aside as instinct took over.

"We need to get him to a doctor." He said, stepping forward and scooping the kid carefully into his arms. "Keep pressure on the wound."

Shanks nodded, white sleeve and shirt covered with red. His expression was taut with concern, and Benn briefly wondered if it was because Ace was Luffy's brother, Roger's son, or was simply Ace. The Yonko did not know the kid well, but what he had seen of Fire Fist had been enough to leave a lasting and positive impression.

Benn recalled the kid's polite, genuine gratefulness towards Shanks for saving Luffy's life, and felt a twinge of urgency. He was a nice guy, a man of trust, and he did not deserve to die here like this. Fire Fist had somehow survived Marineford, and Benn and Shanks were not about to let him fall again.

"Take him to the Red Force." Shanks ordered. "The hospital won't help him."

Benn could sense a hidden meaning in his Captain's layered words, adding his suspicions to the other questions that had been piling up since Shanks demanded to see Whitebeard. His Captain knew more than he was letting on, but Benn would not press for answers. He did not voice his racing thoughts, merely running for the Red Force with Shanks at his side.

They had a life to save.


	11. Denial

It was pure chaos.

Enraged black clouds covered the sky, shifting and angry as they churned like a dark smoke monster taking form. Lightning split the atmosphere, streaking towards the ground as it ripped the air apart. The booms of thunder never ceased, each concussive blast like a blow to the skull as nature bellowed its dominance, daring anyone to try to stand before its wrath. The wind howled, perilous and rampaging as it pushed through the sky with a force that could send ships flying.

The only souls brave— or foolish— enough to face the storm sat within a sturdy red sleigh, holding on tight as the vehicle weaved through the hazardous, electrified air. Bunnymund was nearly thrown from the flying contraption as it jerked to the left, the latest bolt barely missing North's pride and joy. He clung to the sleigh like his life depended on it, fur standing on end and emerald eyes wide and panicked.

"I know that Manny said this world's weather was crazy, but this is ridiculous!" he shouted.

North laughed heartily as he evaded another lightning strike, watching the jagged silvery streak shatter the ground below. "Where's your sense of wonder, Bunny? I think this is amazing!"

"The entire island is a huge lightning storm. It's an  _island_  of  _lightning_. The island where it was blizzarding all bloody day was bad enough, but at least we wouldn't be fried there!" the Pooka snapped from his hunched position in the back seat. Another bolt made his fur fluff up and he practically shrieked. " _Why are we even here?!_ "

Lightning ripped a jagged path through the inky sky, bursting from the clouds like an omen of death. The Guardian of Wonder gave another carefree chuckle and pulled at the reigns, causing the sleigh to veer to the right. Bunny slid on the seat, bumping into Toothiana, who shot him a sympathetic look. Her fingers were wrapped around the edge of the sleigh so tightly they were white, and her turquoise feathers were ruffled with nerves.

"Jack likes storms and trouble. I thought he might be here." North claimed easily.

Bunny snarled at him, quivering as another crash of thunder hit his sensitive ears. The long appendages flattened on his head. "Even Jack isn't so off his rocker that he'd  _fly in a thunderstorm._  You did this just to mess with me didn't you? You ratbag!"

North just grinned at him. A twitch of the reigns sent them soaring out of the storm, the air calming the moment they broke out from under the clouds. The Guardian of Wonder lowered the sleigh closer to the ocean, and Bunny took a moment to slow his oxygen intake, ears twitching as he listened to the whispering waves below.

"That was fun." North said cheerfully.

"I hate you." Bunny growled.

Tooth ignored them both, wringing her hands as she looked around them. "Finding Jack is going to be a lot harder than we thought, isn't it? I thought the Snow Globe would take us straight to him, but instead we ended up on that snowy island…"

They glided over the waves, close enough that Bunny could feel the spray on his fur. The ocean murmured softly, almost gently, but the Guardian of Hope knew better than to think it was friendly or tamed.

"Popping up next to Jack would have been too easy. This way, we have an adventure to look forward to, a whole world to explore!" North said jovially. His merriment dimmed slightly and he adopted a serious look. "There is no use in worrying about what we cannot control. We will run into Jack and Ace eventually. I feel it… in my belly!"

Bunny was about to make a snide comment when the waves below them rippled. North yanked on the reigns and the sleigh shot upward out of the way as a  _gigantic_  fish burst from the sea, mouth agape. Having missed its target, the monster slipped back below the surface, watching the Spirits with feral eyes. It was easily the size of North's palace, and both Bunny and Tooth gawped at the enormous creature as it grew disinterested and disappeared back into the depths.

"What was that?" the Guardian of Memories squeaked.

"I do believe that was a 'Sea King'." North said in the same excited tone as a child who got their most wanted gift for Christmas.

"I hate this world." Bunny moaned.

ROTGOPROTGOP

It truly was a beautiful day. The sky was a clear blue above, the ocean was calm and serene below, and a soft wind ruffled Marco's hair, tousling it as it continued its journey out to sea. The Phoenix stood beside Whitebeard on the deck of the Moby Dick, feeling the ship dip and sway gently beneath his feet, but could not find the fortitude to enjoy the niceness of the afternoon.

The atmosphere on the Moby Dick was tense, tenser than Marco had seen in a while. All eyes were on the Red Force, which was anchored out at sea just ahead of the larger ship. Unlike what Shanks had first requested, the Yonko was not at one of Whitebeard's islands itself. Instead, the territory was just in sight, as if the Captain of the Red Force had belatedly decided it would be best not to disturb the locals. The Phoenix highly doubted that was the reason Shanks was not on the island like what had been agreed on, and wondered what the red-haired Yonko had done this time.

The fourteen present Commanders gathered around their Oyaji, close enough to have a united front, but far enough away from him that it would not seem like they were making a threat. Some gazes were wary, some neutral, but none looked forward to the meeting between the two Yonko. Having learned their lesson from last catastrophe, the weaker crew members were all safely below deck. Not everyone could stand in Red Hair Shanks' presence, after all.

The Phoenix could not help but be reminded of the last time Shanks had called for an audience with Whitebeard, and quickly aborted that train of thought before it could lead him down a distressing and guilt-ridden path. Three years later, Ace's death— Marco's failure to save him— was fresh in the First Division Commander's mind. He still had nightmares of burning flesh and splattering blood, his youngest brother's final words often being replaced by hurt and accusations in the darkest recesses of his dreams.

If the Whitebeard Pirates had managed to get their revenge on Blackbeard for what he had done, Marco may have been able to sleep more soundly at night, but as it were, they had  _failed_. They had underestimated Teach— again— and had lost the Payback War they had fought with him. It had been a disheartening experience, but at least there had been few casualties.

Marco forced his thoughts out of the past, focusing on the present. The Moby Dick had pulled up beside the Red Force, and a gangplank was placed between the ships. The Phoenix did not know why Shanks had insisted on speaking with Whitebeard, but he dreaded the meeting without quite understanding why. Even Oyaji did not know the full details. The red-haired Yonko was being stubbornly secretive about it all, and it was only the grim, serious way in which he'd demanded Whitebeard hurry in his most recent call that stopped the older Yonko from pressing for answers.

Shanks strode onto the Moby Dick, and Marco's dread deepened. The pirate looked strained. There was no other way to describe the frazzled, dark look in his eyes as he walked up to Whitebeard. His seriousness was only made more apparent when he only nodded at Marco, not even asking him to join his crew, and there was also a noticeable lack of sake in his hands.

The Phoenix briefly wondered if the world was ending.

"Whitebeard." Shanks greeted shortly.

"Brat." The older Yonko replied, a tankard lying untouched at his side. "You have quite some nerve, demanding to see me like this."

The red-haired pirate said nothing for a moment, expression growing stiffer. Marco and the other Commanders tensed.

"My original reason for calling you can wait. Something else has come up." Shanks said forebodingly.

"Then speak, brat." The giant Captain commanded.

Shanks's sharp eyes flicked over the Commanders before returning to Whitebeard. His lips pressed together. "I'm assuming that if I insisted on this be said in private, you'd just want me to tell you in front of your children?" His tone was not disrespectful in the slightest, instead holding a weary understanding.

"You would be correct in your assumptions." Whitebeard rumbled with a low laugh. "You're learning, brat."

Shanks did not smile. "I'd still rather not say this here. The information I have is… sensitive."

The elder Yonko finally took a gulp of his sake, eyeing the pirate over the rim of the cup. "It's not like you to be so cryptic. My children can be trusted."

Marco hoped Shanks would drop it. Any more insistence would cause Whitebeard to go from cautiously amused to outraged at the disrespect shown to his crew's bond. The Phoenix could already picture the hefty amount of Beri it would take to cover the costs of the two Yonko fighting on and demolishing parts of the ships. To his relief, the Captain of the Red Force merely let loose a sigh.

"Very well. I'm about to tell you something you won't believe." Shanks said in a solemn tone, firmly meeting Whitebeard's eyes. "But know it is the truth." He paused, almost as if he were readying himself for a storm. "I found Portgas D. Ace." Shanks revealed. "He's alive, and on my ship right now."

Silence.

For a moment, all Marco could hear was the wind, the creaking ship, and the brushing waves, all accompanied by the low hissing and beeping of the machines attached to his Oyaji. If he was more naïve, he may have let his attention drift to the soft sounds, allowing himself to be absorbed by the foreboding quiet. But he knew better, and so he braced himself.

The wave of Conqueror's Haki nearly blasted the Phoenix off his feet. A few of his fellow Commanders could not take the onslaught and crumpled to their knees, eyes dilating and sweat trickling down their faces as they fought to remain conscious. Marco stayed upright through sheer force of will, face remaining stoic even as his own rage threatened to break free of his rigid control. His bubbling fury also helped contain the other emotions that wanted to burst out of him, a churning mixture of confusion, shock, fear, and possible joy writhing beneath his calm façade.

_We saw Ace die._ The memory of Ace's death tried to reveal itself but he brutally locked it away.  _We_ _ **saw**_ _it. How can Shanks say he still lives?_

The alert Commanders became a mob of angry pirates, shouting questions and snarling threats at the red-haired Yonko for daring to claim Fire Fist Ace still lived. Whitebeard rose to his feet, eyes furious and cold and his bisento in his hand, but before he could speak, Shanks did.

"Before you get pissy,  _think_  Newgate. I would  _never_  lie about this." The red-haired Yonko said harshly, unmoved by the fierce blast of Haki.

Shanks did not raise his own Conqueror's Haki to counter Whitebeard's, but he did not submit either, meeting the elder pirate's gaze evenly. The standoff lasted for one minute, then stretched to two, neither Yonko willing to back down. Abruptly, the tension in the air faded, and the elder Yonko sat down heavily, the anger draining from him. His voice was low and curt.

"Explain.  _Now._ "

Shanks did not even raise an eyebrow at the demand, happy to oblige. "Benn and I found Ace in an alleyway on this island. He was injured and unconscious, but alive. We don't know where he's been or what happened to him, but he looks like he went through hell. He's still knocked out. My doctor will go into the specifics."

The terse invitation to go on the Red Force was obvious, and Marco and a majority of the Commanders found themselves moving forward in response. Shanks put up his hand in a halting motion, expression relaxing slightly now that he knew the Whitebeard Pirates were not going to attempt to attack him because of the news he bore.

"Hold on. All of you can't come over. James will only let a couple people in at a time."

Whitebeard was already detaching many of his medical machines from his body, ignoring his children's protests. He strode forward, tall and strong. "Marco, Izo, with me. The rest of you will remain here."

Marco could see his brothers— specifically Haruta and Namur— holding back protests, but in the end no one argued with their Oyaji's decision. The three Whitebeard Pirates followed Shanks onto his ship, with the Phoenix idly noticing Yasopp up in the crow's nest. The sniper waved and put away his weapon without an ounce of sheepishness or shame. The rest of the Red Hair Pirates ignored the newcomers, going about their business casually as if a fellow Yonko and two of his Commanders being led onto their ship was a normal occurrence that happened every other day.

"Just so you are aware, you might not be able to see Ace at first. Someone's… power is keeping him hidden from people. You have to believe he is there in order to see him." Shanks explained as he walked. Something nostalgic flashed through his expression before vanishing. "When I found him, Benn thought I was leaning on thin air."

"Understood." Marco said in a clipped voice.

Hiding someone from view was not that odd of an ability, all things considered. The Phoenix had seen less believable things during his many years on the sea, so he could readily accept that someone had the power to make others invisible. His mind drifted back to Marineford and he frowned, recalling another person who could not simply be seen.

Much of the battle after Ace's body had vanished was a vague blur of anguish in Marco's memory, but he remembered the ice and wind that had attacked Akainu with a rage he himself wished he could show to the Admiral. He had seen ice lances appear out of nowhere within the swirling snow and gale, watched them impale Akainu, and after recalling Ace's claims about having a 'Wintery Guardian Angel', the Phoenix had seen… something.

The snow had been too thick for him to see clearly, but Marco had spotted a humanoid shape within the blizzard, a vague outline of white and blue. On instinct he had called out to it, him,  _Jack Frost_ , and the mysterious figure had listened. The Phoenix did not understand why the 'Guardian Angel' had not slaughtered Akainu then and there before helping the pirates escape, but he still felt grateful to the mysterious, invisible friend of Ace.

Because of him, the Whitebeard Pirates and their allies had been able to leave Marineford with their lives, including Whitebeard. Marco knew his Oyaji had been prepared to sacrifice himself so his children could retreat, but Jack's snowstorm had made such a move unnecessary. Marco wondered if the Wintery Guardian knew he had saved Whitebeard's life. He also wondered where he had gone after Ace had died…

…Except Ace was  _not_  dead.

The news that Marco had been unable to comprehend suddenly clicked, and Marco felt emotions build up in his chest. He clenched his teeth in an attempt to keep them contained. The Phoenix did not know how to feel. Should he be happy? Worried? Confused? Hurt? Angry? Ace was alive, somehow. He had been injured, somehow. He was  _here_ , somehow.

_How did he survive? Where has he been? Why didn't he come back to us?_

A part of the Phoenix wanted to feel betrayed that Ace had not immediately revealed himself to be among the living after Marineford, but the logical side of him knew that it was likely the fire-user had a reason for avoiding his family. A reason that probably involved being held prisoner…

They reached the sickbay before Marco could continue that dark line of thought.

The doctor— James— was not the type of person one would think was a medical professional. His long blonde hair was held back in a bandanna that flaunted his crew's Jolly Roger, and his eyes were covered by rose-tinted sunglasses. His expression was set in a firm, stern look, not angry or scowling, but not joyful either. He also carried a sword with the air of someone who knew how to use it. Reddish sunglasses reflected in the light, and Marco did not need to see James's eyes to know he was looking at the Whitebeard Pirates with suspicion.

Shanks stepped into the doctor's territory, grinning easily as he clapped the man on his shoulder. "Don't look so grim, James. They're friendly, I swear."

"Hm." James grunted eloquently, still eyeing the Whitebeard Pirates skeptically.

The Captain of the Red Force gave an exaggerated sigh, turning back to his friendly rivals. "Don't worry about James. He's just a bit overprotective of his patients."

"Can you blame me after I worked on the kid?" James said a little darkly. "He went through hell."

Shanks's smile faded and he adopted a solemn look. "I know. Might as well show him to these guys before they break apart the ship."

His tone held a slight warning, and Marco realized blue flames were licking at his shoulders. Whitebeard's fists were clenched and shimmered with the energy of his power, while Izo crossed his arms defiantly, doing his best not to reach for his guns. The two Devil Fruit using pirates forced their powers back under control, all signs of them ceding from their bodies.

"Fine." James said shortly, though his posture relaxed a little. He looked pleased, though Marco could not understand why. "He's in the private room. This way."

They went deeper into the medical bay, passing by standard white beds and neatly ordered equipment. Shanks and James halted outside the door at the end of the bay, and the doctor spoke up.

"You can go, Benn."

The Red Hair First Mate stepped out from behind a machine, and Marco blinked. He had not even realized the man was there, but the gun he was placing back in its holster revealed his reason for hiding. A bead of warmth blossomed in the Phoenix's chest as he realized how seriously Shanks and his crew were taking Ace's safety. The red-haired Yonko had already done more than Marco thought he would, and despite himself he felt his respect for the partying, rowdy pirate rise just a little bit.

James opened the door and paused, looking behind him at the three Whitebeard Pirates. "When we said Ace looks like he's been through hell, we meant it. He's been beaten up pretty badly."

"Understood." Whitebeard said roughly.

The doctor nodded, and led the way into the room. Marco's eyes instantly found the occupant of the sole bed in the space, and his breathe caught in his throat.

Ace was almost as pale as the sheets he was tucked under. Bruises were littered across the fire-user's skin, making a collage of yellow, green, and blue splotches. Some were in the shape of hand prints and fists, and Marco brutally refused to follow that line of thought further, because if he did he would go kill something. Or someone.

Marco's gaze locked on the bandages wrapped around Ace's torso, going from just under his armpits and reaching under the sheets. They were already tinged red, sullied and unclean, and in need of changing soon. Despite knowing it was not the case the Phoenix kept picturing a gaping hole below the strips of cloth. He quickly averted his gaze, finally noticing the most disturbing thing about his lost brother's appearance.

The black tattoo-like markings that were drawn through Ace's flesh from his neck to his toes only added to the First Division Commander's dismay, the lines oozing a malice that was almost physical in nature. He did not need the doctor to explain that the black veins were poisonous and wrong, the phoenix in him hissing and urging him to remove the threat to his little brother. Marco wanted nothing more than to rip the streaks away from the fire-user's body, every glance at them making his stomach churn sickeningly.

Ace's bandaged chest rose and fell faintly, each breath clouding the mask over his mouth and nose. Machines beeped lowly around him, scanning his vitals and only providing more proof that he did indeed live. Marco took a moment to just watch the steady movement of the fire-user's torso, irrationally fearing that each intake of oxygen would be his last.

But his fear was unfounded. Ace continued to breathe. His heart continued to beat. He was… he was  _alive_.

Something scared and heartbreaking wanted to burst free of Marco, but he did not let it. He could  _not_  let it. Not here.

"I can't believe it." Izo whispered.

Beside Marco, Whitebeard made a sound the Phoenix thought his Captain was incapable of making. It was not quite shocked, not quite relieved, and not quite broken, but held a fragile grief that could become a storm of guilt and sadness if left unchecked. The large Yonko approached his lost son almost hesitantly, as if he were afraid going near the young man would cause him to vanish. Carefully,  _gently_ , the giant man placed his hand on Ace's head.

"My son…" Whitebeard whispered, brushing a large hand through Ace's hair.

The fire-user flinched and shivered, unconsciously pulling away from his touch, and Marco saw something in his Oyaji's calm mask crack. The doctor spoke before the Yonko could shatter, either thinking the Whitebeard Pirates had enough time to process what they were seeing or sparing Whitebeard from having a breakdown in front of distant allies.

"Ace was stabbed through the chest when Shanks found him. He also had multiple contusions and broken ribs. Evidence suggests he was impaled and severely beaten." The doctor reported stoically. "I managed to stabilize him, but he has not woken since we brought him in."

Izo swallowed visibly, tucking a loose hair behind his ear and looking one second away from losing his composure. Marco could relate.

"Is Ace comatose?" the okama asked tightly.

"No." the doctor said. "He's asleep. He just can't wake up."

His words did not make anyone present feel better.

"Explain." Whitebeard demanded for the second time, voice low and dangerous.

James complied without batting an eye. "That—" He said, pointing at a few of the black markings on Ace's arm. "—is made of some type of sand-like substance. I was able to take a sample from his stomach wound and it appears to be mixed in his bloodstream. From what I can tell, it's a type of malevolent sedative. It keeps the victim  _asleep_ , not unconscious."

"How do you know?" Marco asked, not truly wanting the answer.

The doctor scowled darkly. "A scan of his brain waves shows him attempting to wake, only to be pulled back under. In addition to that, eye movement and increased respiration rate suggest he is trapped in the REM stage of sleep. He isn't cycling through the stages like he would normally, but he is not in a coma either. He's just… stuck."

Almost on cue, the monitor beside Ace's head started to beep rapidly. Before the pirates' terrified eyes, the fire-user's body began to jerk, back arching off the bed as his limbs spasmed and flailed. Marco instinctively grabbed Ace's shoulders, holding him down, only to be shoved away by the doctor.

"Don't! You could dislocate his shoulders." The blonde-haired man snapped.

"But—" Marco began, but James cut him off.

"It will pass."

Ace convulsed a few more times and then went limp, breathing evening out. The frantic beeping of the machine slowed to a less frenzied rate. James checked to make sure his throat was clear and stepped back, lifting his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"This is the fourth seizure in an hour. He's also suffering from dehydration, malnourishment, exhaustion, internal bleeding, lacerations, sepsis, anemia, and an irregular body temperature. His temperature is approximately twenty-eight degrees below what it should be. His larynx is also strained, damaged, and swollen. It's unlikely he will be able to speak for a while."

Marco clenched his fists, careful not to let his nails break his skin. Any sign of blood— regenerative abilities or not— would cause the doctor to scold and fret over him, when it was Ace he should be worried about.

"What's 'sepsis'?" Izo questioned.

"Infections." The doctor said briefly. "In Ace's case, the wound on his side is inflamed and emitting a blackish pus. Based on the patterning around the lesion, I believe that is where he was infected by the sand."

"Do you think it was intentional?" Marco blurted. "Him being poisoned, I mean?"

James pushed his glasses up his nose, expression unreadable. "I'll hazard a guess and say yes. It would not surprise me if someone put the sand in his system to see how his body would react to it."

The fiery anger returned and Marco slowly understood why Shanks had been so upset and tense about the whole situation. It was hard to stay laid-back and detached knowing that a good kid like Ace had been hurt, almost murdered, and likely imprisoned and experimented on for who knew how long. Anger was also an effective means of holding back the shame the Phoenix felt that he had left his little brother in such a situation in the first place. Even though they had no way to know he was alive...

For a moment they just watched Ace breathe, the low beeping and the hisses of oxygen as it forced its way into his lungs being the only noises to break the silence. Again, Marco's eyes went to the ashen skin, the bandages, the bruises, the cuts, the marks, and the guilt that settled in his chest grew heavier, weighing on his heart and threatening to force him down to his knees under the pressure.

"How is he still alive?" the Phoenix found himself asking.

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. "Well, he is a D, and a Devil Fruit eater. They are quite durable."

"That's not what I meant." The Phoenix clarified. "How is he alive? We— We saw him  _die_."

Whitebeard's face grew stony. Izo glared at the wall with shining eyes. Shanks looked at the floor, lips pursing. James shrugged helplessly.

"I don't have an answer for you. You'll have to ask Ace if— when he wakes up."

"He'll wake up." Izo stated ferociously. "He can't just come back from the dead somehow and leave again. Do you hear me?" The Sixteenth Commander turned his fierce glare to the sleeping fire-user. "I want answers, answers that you  _will_  give me. You are going to wake up and be fine and tell us where the hell you've been these past three years and, and—"

He broke off, a strained expression crossing his fair features as his jaw locked.

"Excuse me." The okama said stiffly, and walked swiftly out of the sickbay.

The remaining pirates watched him retreat, none commenting on the tears that were ruining his makeup. Marco hesitantly approached the bed, taking Ace's pale hand in his and careful not to pull at the IV that was attached to it. Again, the fire-user flinched when he was touched, shifting uncomfortably. The Phoenix noticed a familiar band around his wrist and frowned.

"Seastone?"

James was unapologetic. "Yes. We put a seastone bracelet on him just in case. The last thing we need is him bursting into flames here."

_Does he even still have his Devil Fruit?_  Marco thought.

The Phoenix remembered the Mera Mera no Mi being auctioned as a prize in some type of tournament last year. They had been too far from Dressrosa to reach it in time, but Ace's thought-dead brother, Sabo, had won and eaten it. It was only because it was him that the Whitebeard Pirates did not go and hunt down the person who dared to take Ace's fruit. Devil Fruits only respawned when their eater died, so how did the Mera Mera no Mi reappear if Ace was still alive?

Marco shoved his questions away. There were more important things to be concerned about.

"We should move him to the Moby Dick." The Phoenix suggested. "So he'll wake up somewhere familiar."

James frowned at him. "That may be a good idea. I will continue to treat him on your ship."

It was not a request, and even Whitebeard knew better than to argue with a stubborn doctor.

"Of course." The Yonko said graciously, though with a slight bit of tired amusement. He was obviously thinking about his own nurses and their possessive mentality when it came to patients. His gaze locked onto the red-haired pirate that was standing in the corner and his eyes softened.

"I owe you, Shanks." Whitebeard said softly.

Shanks gave him a smile, accepting his gratitude with a slight nod. "I like the kid. He has a good soul. And he's fun at parties." He pushed away from the wall, stretching easily. "You should probably get some of your nurses to help move Ace. Otherwise James will try to do everything himself."

The doctor glared at his Captain, who smiled unapologetically. Watching the red-haired Yonko, Marco was struck by a sudden rush of unease. Now that his panic and confusion were subsiding, his questions and alertness returned, and he noticed that the easygoing man was hiding something. His smiles were a little too strained, his posture a little too tense, and his words a little too thought out. It was almost like he was hiding something. There was no other explanation the Phoenix could think of.

Marco could not help but feel that Shanks knew more than he let on.

ROTGOPROTGOP

The town was cute.

There was no other way to describe it. It was  _cute_.

Quaint little white houses were lined up along quaint little cobblestone streets with cheerfully quaint people milling about, minding their own business as they went about their lives. The buildings looked more like enlarged doll houses than places where people lived, and the air was so welcoming that Jack wondered if he had accidentally stumbled upon a fantasy village. At least the people seemed to be normal enough, even if they were surprisingly friendly.

More than one civilian stopped to nod at and warmly greet the strangers in their town, though they only saw two. The invisible Guardian of Fun observed them all with a bemused air, brow furrowed slightly as a bewildered frown tugged at his lips.

"Did we somehow end up in East Blue? Or a dreamland? This place is way too peaceful." The Winter Spirit commented.

Sabo chuckled lowly and adjusted his hat, turning to the Winter Spirit. "Not all places in the New World are being threatened by monsters and evil. Some islands are actually quite calm."

To outsiders, it looked as if he were addressing the orange-haired woman who walked beside him, though there was a noticeable space between the two. None of the civilians gave the two Revolutionaries a second glance, their words unheard and their speaking to 'thin air' misinterpreted as them talking to each other. Jack walked casually between the two with his staff in one hand, taking in the sights with a raised eyebrow.

"This is so  _weird_. I'm used to bad things happening everywhere I go on this world."

Koala gave a soft snort. "Despite what you think, the whole New World isn't a violent hellhole. But since you're so interested; this island is protected by Whitebeard. That's why it isn't attacked by pirates every day of the week."

She noticed something at a nearby newsstand and wandered closer to see it, leaning over as she studied whatever had caught her attention.

"Ah. That explains it." Jack nodded. "So why are we here? This place is so bubbly Pitch would probably die of disgust if he came here."

"We need more supplies before we head out to the island Hack told us about." Sabo reminded the Winter Spirit. His tone grew teasing. "Don't tell me you forgot humans need food."

"I need to eat too." Jack sniffed. "Though not nearly as much as you. Where do you put it all?"

"Are you really asking that when you've been with Ace for twenty-three years?" Sabo asked sarcastically and then shook his head. "Never mind. The supplies are being loaded onto our ship right now, so it won't be much longer."

Jack smiled and did his best not to stress about every second Ace stayed in Pitch's hands. "I know. I guess I can't just carry you with me through the sky, but I really hope it won't take too long to—  _Oof!_ "

A small body slammed into Jack and he stumbled, surprised by the contact. He looked down and met a tiny blonde-haired boy's wide eyes, the kid looking as stunned as the Guardian felt. The boy stepped back, peering up at the much-taller Spirit with innocent blue orbs.

"Sowwy, mister." The boy— who could not be more than four— squeaked.

_He can see me?_   _Yes!_  The Guardian mentally crowed. Jack gave the child a laid back smile and ruffled his hair. "It's fine, kiddo."

Before he could say more, a female voice called out. "Anthony! How many times do I have to tell you,  _no_  running?"

A woman with blonde hair the same shade as Anthony's walked up, taking his hand. Her eyes met Jack's and she smiled apologetically.

"I'm so sorry about my son, sir. He's always—"

She froze, skin turning a ghostly white. Jack and the Revolutionaries tensed, with Sabo looking behind them to see what was wrong, when the woman  _screamed_.

"Jack Frost!" she shrieked. "The Winter Spirit is here!"

The terror in her voice shocked Jack into stillness, and he almost didn't react when a spear was thrown his way. Koala struck the weapon out of the air, and the two Revolutionaries closed around the Guardian like body guards. The atmosphere of the town went from peaceful to hostile in an instant, and the crowd merged around the three outsiders, fearful eyes all staring at the Winter Spirit.

"Get out of here, you monster!" a man shouted with a shaking voice.

"Leave our children alone!" another woman yelled, holding her little girl close.

"You won't take any of us! The Whitebeards will stop you!" a second man bellowed, and the townspeople voiced their defiant agreement.

Jack felt ill. Sabo grasped his arm, and Koala gripped his other hand.

"We have to go." The blonde-haired Revolutionary said softly, blue orbs eying the mob warily.

The Guardian nodded and took to the air, carrying the two humans easily as they flew over the gathering crowd. A few of the humans screamed in terror, while others began to throw objects at the retreating trio.

Sabo stopped a bottle from hitting Koala in the face while she prevented an apple away from striking Jack's side. The Winter Spirit twisted sideways to avoid a stream of bullets, and gasped as one went through Sabo's thigh, turning it into fire.

"It's fine! They're not seastone. Go,  _go!_ " the blonde Revolutionary urged.

The Guardian soared higher into the clouds, out of the villagers' sights. He spotted the small ship they had arrived on and descended directly onto the deck. Hack jumped slightly when they landed next to him, but Sabo regained his footing and strode forward purposely, barking an order.

"Set sail. We need to get out of here."

The Fishman did not question the blonde, hurrying to lower the sails. Distant shouts reached the ship, and Jack spotted the mob running towards them. Many were holding weapons, while those without brandished tools with a menacing air. The trickster in him wanted to laugh at the cliché nature of it all, but most of him felt strangely numb.

"Wind, help us out." He mumbled.

It obeyed instantly, blowing on the sails and sending them gliding out to sea. Jack turned back to the island, just able to hear the raised voices and angry— fearful— shouts directed at them at them as they retreated. The Wind tried to mute the yells but its efforts only amplified them in Jack's ears.

" _That's right. Get out of here you demon!"_

" _We have to do a roll call. We need to make sure no one is missing."_

" _Who were those people with Frost? Do you think they were Revolutionaries like the papers claim?"_

" _I thought they were supposed to fight against oppression!"_

" _Do you think he'll come back to hurt us?"_

" _Don't worry. If he does, Whitebeard will get him."_

Koala touched his arm and he twitched before forcing himself to give her an assuring smile. She was not fooled by his meager attempt, squeezing his hand before releasing it.

"I… saw this…" she murmured, handing him a piece of paper.

It was a Wanted Poster, with his face displayed prominently on the front.

' _Winter Spirit' Jackson Overland Frost_

_Wanted Dead or Alive_

_Reward: 200,000,000 Beri_

Jack felt no pride in the new bounty. Frost trickled over the poster, covering the numbers with a thin layer of ice. He let the paper slip from his fingers and flutter to the deck, mind clouding as he slowly realized why the civilians had been so hostile.

"They're blaming me for the disappearances, aren't they?" he whispered. "They're… they're making people  _fear me_."

If Sabo or Koala said anything, Jack did not hear them, senses hazing as he processed what he had just learned and the horrific implications. Pitch had to be the source of this. He was making people believe in the Guardian not through love, hope, and fun, but through  _fear,_ just like he had wanted back when the Nightmare King had asked the Winter Spirit to be his ally.

The Guardian's stomach lurched and he leaned over slightly, physically sickened by the thought of having 'believers' who believed in him out of terror. Pitch was taking what should be a joyful and wonderful occurrence and turning it into something vile and unwanted. Jack would rather be walked through be a million people than have them see and be afraid of him.

_I think I hate him._  The Winter Spirit realized slowly.  _I think I actually_ _ **hate**_ _Pitch Black. First he hurts and kidnaps Ace, then he kills a bunch of innocent people, and now he warps belief like_ _ **this**_ _? How dare he. How_ _ **dare**_ _he take something that is supposed to be good, pure, and wonderful and mutilate it like that!_

Anger, dark and cold, formed in Jack's chest, and his eyes grew icy, changing from a brilliant blue to a cerulean-tinged white. He met Sabo's solemn gaze and when he spoke, his voice was like an arctic wind.

"This needs to stop. We're going to find Pitch, and we're going to bring him down. What he's done… It's  _unforgivable_."

If Pitch thought making people fear Jack would draw the Winter Spirit to his side, he was sadly mistaken. The Guardian felt the savage fury grow stronger in his heart and his grip on his frosted staff tightened.

_You've gone too far this time, Pitch. You've done something inexcusable. No matter what it takes, I'm stopping you. Even if I die trying._

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace felt… warm.

The unfamiliar sensation of heat slowly registered with the fire-user, and he took a minute to enjoy the feeling of serenity and safety that wrapped around him like a blanket. But… he actually  _was_  wrapped in a blanket. Ace frowned unconsciously as he let his hands twitch over the soft material that covered him, urging his eyes to open so that he could figure out where he was.

The last thing he remembered before falling into blackness and nightmares was—

_Stabbed-blood-hurt-pain-dying—_

Ace shut the memory behind a wall in his mind, refusing to think about what had happened before he had fallen unconscious. At least, he was mostly sure that was his last real memory. It was difficult to know for certain. The Summer Spirit had been cycling through nightmares ever since then, and was proud to realize that he could identify the last few worlds he had woken in as hallucinations afterward.

He could still tell fiction from reality, even if it was only after his fears played out before him. He was not completely gone. He could still beat this.

The fire-user felt his lips twitch into a smile, and felt a rush of confusion. Why was he so happy? Why did he feel so safe and warm? Why…?

_I escaped. I escaped, I'm free, and I'm alive._

If he had the energy, Ace would have laughed aloud. He was still having nightmares and he was still infected by the black sand, but he was out. He had gotten away from Pitch, and had apparently been found by someone after the Nightmare King had—

_Don't think._

"Ace?"

The fire-user twitched when the unfamiliar voice spoke, too close for comfort. His stomach twisted with nerves, and he briefly wished he had pretended to still be asleep. But he was not dead, so that meant the speaker had helped him, right? They— he?— had healed him after—

_Repress._

Taking a chance, Ace lifted his heavy eyelids, letting his gaze roam over his surroundings. He was in a bed in a medical bay, the clean and orderly space completely dominated by the color white. He vaguely recognized the hospital on the Moby Dick, though he supposed any infirmary could have those cursed white walls. The bright opposite of grey and black hurt the Summer Spirit's eyes and he winced, lifting a hand to cover them. Odd, but he thought he would be in more pain after what Pitch had—

_Forget._

Ace uncovered his eyes, letting them drift to the only person in the room. He did not recognize the man, but his white coat pinned him as a doctor of some sort. The Summer Spirit hoped he was the healing kind of doctor. Because the other kind of 'doctor' that wore white coats tended to cut him open and—

_That wasn't real. Breathe._

"You're awake." The doctor said pleasantly. "How are you feeling? Do you hurt anywhere?"

Ace opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out. He swallowed roughly, gritting his teeth when the action caused pain to flare through his aching throat and tried again. His efforts yielded no results.

The doctor noticed his struggle and waved his hands in a stopping motion. "It's all right. Don't try to speak. Your larynx is damaged. I'm afraid you won't be able to talk for a while."

Ace frowned at him, not pleased by the news. If he could not speak, how was he supposed to apologize to Sabo and Luffy for leaving them? The fire-user paused as he comprehended what he just thought and he found himself smiling a little again.

_Sabo's alive!_  His mind sang happily.

That was right. He had to find his brothers. Ace struggled to sit up but the doctor put his hands on his shoulders, lightly pushing him back onto the bed. The fire-user went still when the man touched him, his skin crawling where the doctor's hands met his skin.

"Oh no you don't. You're not running around just yet. You Gol D.'s are always so reckless and arrogant, aren't you? You're still injured."

Ace blinked at the man, lips pressing together. Didn't the doctor understand he had better things to do than heal? He needed to search for his three brothers. It wasn't like he was that badly wounded—

The fire-user looked down, noticing the bandages around his chest and stomach, and a shudder went through his lithe frame. Memories of pain and a brutal beating threatened to force their way to the front of his mind but he locked them behind a door, skillfully suppressing them.

"Just let me look over you to make sure you're okay, all right?" the doctor asked reasonably, not appearing to notice his patient's distress.

Ace bit his lip and nodded reluctantly. The sooner the doctor saw he was fine, the sooner he could begin his self-appointed mission to locate his family.

The doctor prodded gently at his ribs and stomach, expression set in one of deep focus. Ace watched him warily, flinching at every touch. It was like the man's fingers were daggers instead of skin and bone, stabbing the fire-user despite the doctor's careful precision. Ace did his best to stay still, unwilling to antagonize the man who was fully capable of harming him if he wanted to.

Something in the back of his mind whispered that his first priority shouldn't be how to make people not hurt him and that having such a mentality was bad, but before Ace could follow that line of thought, the doctor picked up a scalpel. The fire-user's gaze zeroed in on the sharp utensil, and the horror paralyzed him, icy fear ripping through his frame.

The doctor noticed his expression and his own features softened. "It's all right. I'm just going to remove these bandages." He explained calmly, as if he were speaking to a frightened child.

_I pretty much_ _ **am**_ _a frightened child_ , Ace thought bitterly with a surge of self-loathing.

He watched warily as the doctor cut away the bandages that were wrapped around his chest, the man careful not to nick his patient's skin. Ace relaxed minutely as he observed each accurate slice, the doctor gradually making his way upward. The doctor smiled comfortingly at him, twisting his hand, and dragged the scalpel across the fire-user's throat.

Ace's mind went blank, but his numbness was slapped away by pain, his body jerking as it comprehended that his jugular had been slit. His next breath came out as a wet gurgle, and crimson splattered over his chest and chin, quickly turning the white sheets read. The doctor watched his patient hemorrhage with a serene expression.

"I'm sorry." The doctor said sincerely. "I can't allow you to come back, Gol D. Ace. Some of my brothers died because of you and your father, and you can't be forgiven for that. You understand, don't you?"

The fire-user choked on his own blood, mind hazing as death beckoned him with its empty embrace. Ace refused the call, clapping his hands to his neck and attempting to stem the flow. He had to search for Sabo, apologize to Luffy, and reunite with Jack. He had escaped, hadn't he? He'd gotten out. Was he really going to die now after he had fought so hard to be free?

The pain that once burned like magma quickly faded away to an icy numbness. Ace felt a different panic then. He could not die now. But willpower could not stop him from bleeding out.

The fire-user's fragile heart beat one last time, and was silenced.

Ace did not dare to open his eyes. He used his experience with faking narcolepsy attacks to feign sleep, willing his breathing to remain slow and even. He could hear the gently beeping of a heart monitor near his head, and felt smooth sheets beneath his fingers. He smelled antiseptic and bleach, the sharp stenches stinging his nose as he inhaled.

_Just a nightmare. Just another nightmare._

He idly noted that his body hurt— especially his chest. Ace tried to raise his arm to touch the spot and immediately regretted it. Fire shot through his entire frame, momentarily making him black out, and when he could feel other things again the aching pressure lingered tauntingly. The fire-user wanted to voice his discomfort — even if it was just through muffled croaks—but withheld that desire, staying still and silent.

He knew pretending to be asleep was useless in a dream, but if he could just buy himself those few precious seconds where his fears weren't being thrown in his face it would be worth it. He had no way of knowing what terror the black sand would exploit this round, after all.

Based on the beeping machines and the mask on his face, the fire-user was 'in a sickbay', likely on the Moby Dick. That did not give Ace hope. He remembered now that he had experienced countless nightmares back in the prison where he had been 'rescued' and 'safe', only for his family to hate him and turn on him. Because time held no meaning in dreams, sometimes they lasted months or even years before his crewmates eventually got fed up and killed him. Ace was more than used to those betrayals by now.

But Ace had rescued himself this time. He had escaped. He  _knew_  he had. The only problem was he had fallen unconscious, and had no way of knowing if he was waking to reality or another nightmare. The last 'betrayal' was proof enough that his ability to see truth from fiction was almost nonexistent.

Footsteps drew Ace's attention back to his surroundings. The fire-user felt the black sand's familiar chill as fear swept through him. Should he open his eyes and face the new potential threat, or try to buy himself a few more minutes? But if this was a dream, then they knew he was awake, right? What if they stabbed him again? Or what if this was one of those dreams where he was trapped inside his body and could only lay there, paralyzed, while they made him pay for being born?

With this panicked thought in mind, Ace tried to lift his eyelids and see where he had ended up this time. His eyelids refused to obey him, taking his orders to open as a suggestion and deigning to ignore them.

The beeping near his head grew faster and Ace cursed his beating heart. He heard the person at his bedside inhale sharply.

"Ace? Ace, can you hear me, yoi?"

The fire-user stayed limp and unresponsive. He knew the voice but could not identify it, his brain scrambling as he tried to put a name to the distinctive accent. He had heard it recently after all, in one of his latest nightmares, but Ace's mind refused to associate the voice with someone he loved— someone who had hurt him on so many occasions in dreams.

_That's right. He only hates me_ _**in dreams** _ _. But this could be a dream. It also might not be. What do I do? Should I try to communicate with him? But if this is another nightmare it's useless…_

How many times had he cycled through the motions, 'reuniting' with his friends and family, believing he was 'free', 'telling' his story, and either being rejected by his comrades or 'accepted' then eventually betrayed?

His inability to tell whether he was sleeping or awake was nerve-racking. There was always chance that he would be awake one of these times and would do something wrong that would cause irreversible damage or make people hate him for real. That possibility terrified him more than he wanted to admit.

Quite frankly, Ace did not know how to react to things around him anymore. His family must already think he was a freak because of the black sand staining his skin, but that didn't mean he should showcase his confused mental state. It would be best to stay as apathetic as possible until he knew for certain if he was dreaming or not. Was he even with someone he knew, or was he in another fake nightmare?

_I have to be awake to find Luffy, Jack, and Sabo_ , he reasoned.  _They won't reject me. They won't hate me. Well, they might, but at least if I see them I'll know for certain. Wait, no. That's not right. They won't hate me. They would never hate me. But if they do that's okay. They don't need me._

He was distantly aware that something was very wrong with his thought processes, but accepted them readily anyway. He wasn't important, others were. His brothers were. He had to make sure they were happy. He had to make sure they were safe. He had to—

… _Didn't I decide I wanted to live for me? I'm so confused._

Before he could consider the question, something touched his arm, feeling like broken glass against his skin.

Ace jolted away wildly, the machine picking up its frantic pace. He felt something tear from his arm but he dismissed the slight pain, more concerned about the world that swayed and danced around him when he opened his eyes. The bed vanished from under him and the fire-user felt himself falling.

He was caught by burning, jagged metal shards that fought angrily with the cold black sand in his veins. Ace's vision momentarily blacked out, his stomach churning as the awful-feeling person continued to touch him and the black sand tried to tear out of his body like a monster. His gaze zeroed in on the man and he slowly recognized Marco's blonde hair through the haze of confusion and pain.

_Let go let go_ _ **let go!**_  Ace silently screamed.

"Careful, Ace." The Phoenix soothed, not noticing— or not caring?— about his discomfort.

Marco set him back on the bed, and the Summer Spirit let loose a shuddering breath. His nausea faded when the Phoenix released him. The fire-user carefully laid his hands in his lap, forcing himself to meet the Phoenix's worried blue eyes. Was he actually worried though? Was he real or fake?

Marco's eyes shone with unshed tears and he gave Ace a watery smile. "I'm so glad you're finally awake."

He reached for the fire-user's face but Ace twitched, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, Marco's hand had fallen to his side. The Phoenix's jaw was clenched and Ace nervously realized he had upset the Commander somehow. His gaze dropped to his hands.

_I'm sorry._

"You gave us quite the scare, you know." Marco said softly. "I thought— We thought—" He paused, expression clouding with guilt and slight disgust. Before Ace could wonder what he had done wrong, the Phoenix gave a disgruntled grunt. "I need to call in the doctor, yoi. Idiot."

He stood up, but paused when Ace's skin blanched white. The fire-user ducked his head, hiding his expression behind his hair. His last nightmare was fresh in his mind. He did not want a doctor to look over him. Marco touched his arm, stabbing him in the process, and Ace's limbs shook.

_Stupid. I should be used to it by now. I'm pathetic._

"…I don't have to call the doctor right now." Marco said slowly.

His gaze flicked past Ace and he jerked his head. The fire-user turned to look behind him but no one was there. The door was clicking shut though, so maybe someone had been. He belatedly realized he was in the Moby Dick's infirmary again— Or not again. Was this another dream or not?

Ace felt a rush of frustration and his expression twisted into a snarl. He was supposed to be finding his brothers, not constantly wondering if he was asleep or conscious. He  _had_  gotten free. He  _had_  escaped Pitch. But now he had no way of knowing if he was in damn reality or not.

Heat rippled through his cold skin but he held the flames in. He could not take his anger out on the Not-Marco that might actually be Marco. If it turned out he hurt his family in a fit of rage…

_Stay distant. Stay calm. It might be real. It might not be. Don't react to anything._

Easier thought than done.

"…Ace? Ace!"

He heard Marco calling his name and focused on the Phoenix, jerking back when he noticed how close the man's face was to his own. Marco retreated slightly, that same worry crossing his features, but it disappeared almost instantly.

"I want you to know that you're safe. You're on the Moby Dick. Shanks found you and brought you to us after patching you up."

The Phoenix explained his situation carefully and precisely, as if he were uncertain that Ace would understand the words. The fire-user felt another rush of bitter dismay at his words.

_Like I haven't heard that before,_  Ace thought darkly.  _Though the Shanks part was new._ He felt another wave of barely-contained flames.  _Calm. Okay. I need to think about this logically. Think about the facts. That'll help, won't it?_

He stared blankly past Marco as he struggled to organize his thoughts.

_Reasons this could be real: My injuries match— Don't think about it— what I remember from before falling unconscious. Marco has not betrayed, yelled at, or attempted to murder me yet. Shanks apparently found me, which was an oddly specific and random detail for a nightmare to have… Why Shanks?_

_Reasons this could be fake: Every touch hurts. I swear that the Moby Dick was destroyed at Marineford, although that may have been one of the smaller ships. I… I can't remember._

Marco made an audible, shaky sound and Ace broke out of his thoughts, meeting his gaze instinctively. He was stunned by the tears threatening to run down the normally stoic Phoenix's cheeks, his blue eyes shiny with unshed droplets.

"I'm so happy you're alive." The normally stoic man choked, smiling shakily. His hand twitched but he did not touch Ace, much to the Summer Spirit's relief. "I don't know how you did it, but I'm glad you came back to us. You're safe, and you're  _home_ , Ace."

For a second, Ace truly believed it, drifting out of his careful apathy as his lips twitched and his eyes softened.

Then the door burst open, making both occupants jump, and someone raced into the room.

"I heard Ace is awake!" the newcomer blurted, a joyful grin on his face.

Standing in the doorway was none other than Thatch.

For what seemed like the thousandth time, Ace's hope shattered like glass.

His breathing grew rapid and shallow as the machine next to him beeped frantically, the steady chirps becoming a near-constant, panicked wail. Ace curled up on the bed, back to the headboard and hands pressed over his mouth as salty tears dripped from his stinging eyes. He felt as if his brain were being shredded from the inside, his consciousness dissolving into an abyss of despair. The nightmare became a mess of vague shapes and shadows as his mind shut down, the realization too much for his body to cope with.

_Stupid. It's_ _**fake** _ _. I should have known. I should have known. I should have—_

Something touched his arm—  _burning awful evil_ — and that single point of contact snapped into focus. He did not want to be touched, touching in nightmares meant hurting and he couldn't handle it, not again, it was wrong wrong  _wrong_ —

_Detach. Be numb. Don't feel don't feel don't feel._

Someone was speaking to him but Ace ignored them, free-falling into numbness as he disassociated himself from the false world around him. Then another hand grasped him, pushing him down, pinning him, and panic snatched the fire-user's mind, throwing away everything else. Ace thrashed in the person's grasp, their too-hot hands causing bolts of pain to flare from his scraped flesh. He never thought he would despise warmth.

Ace felt cold metal snap around his wrist, and fear was replaced by a stunned blankness. They were chaining him. Chains meant he was a prisoner. Being imprisoned meant he wasn't free. Being unfree meant he couldn't find Sabo.

Ace's mouth opened in a scream he could not voice and he kicked the person holding him. His foot connected with something hard and he heard the person bellow, but they did not release him. The fire-user's vision blurred and darkened and he yanked desperately at the manacle that kept him trapped on the bed. He felt his skin rip open but he kept fighting, hearing the headboard crack.

_Escape fight escape fight escape!_  His mind screamed.

More hands held him in place again, four on his shoulders, four on his legs, and two more on his hips, effectively immobilizing him. Another pair of deft fingers pulled his arm taut, and he felt something prick the inside of his elbow. A needle. They were injecting him with something. Was this one of those nightmares where he was experimented on? Had they already cut him open? Was that what the bandages around his chest and abdomen were from?

_Not real. Not real. It's just an illusion. Not real._

An unknown substance was forced into his veins, icy and burning and thick. The fire-user could feel it slide through his blood, jabbing his insides like fragments of sharp ice. Ace's muscles went lax, a different cloudiness dulling his mind and senses, and to his relief the pain dimmed as well.

Most of the hands released him except two, and he was pulled to someone's chest, their arms wrapping around him and their heart beating loudly in his ear. An invasive hand stroked his hair, each touch painful and burning as it pushing the locks away from his sweaty face. A voice whispered in his ear in what was supposed to be a soothing tone.

"Shh.  _Shh_. It's okay. It's okay, yoi. It's going to be all right, Ace." Marco murmured. "You're safe now. You're safe."

Ace knew it was a lie. As everything drifted away, the fire-user felt a small bit of comfort. At least he would be unconscious if they took him apart this time. He just hoped when he regained consciousness again he would wake up in reality.

He would not let these nightmares stop him from finding his brothers.


	12. Anger

One of the main drawbacks of traveling by boat was that it could be… slow.

Don't get Jack wrong, the Revolutionaries' ship was a fast little vessel, but the Guardian still felt that they were moving at a snail's pace compared to the speeds he could accomplish on his own. However, he dealt with his impatience, unwilling to leave Sabo and Koala behind and continue his search by himself. The blonde Logia in particular would never forgive him if he left alone to hunt down Pitch and save their raven-haired, fire-wielding brother.

Jack sat on the railing of the ship, one leg pulled to his body while the other swung freely above the water. The waves made low hushing sounds as they brushed against the boat, rhythmic and soothing. Out of curiosity, the Guardian attempted to freeze some of the water by shooting a bolt of ice at the sea. To his satisfaction, ice formed over a wave, making an odd ripple pattern on the top of the water.

"Cool." Jack murmured.

He froze more waves, aiming further and further from the ship. The ice made strange designs on the surface of the water, the cold creations moving back and forth as the waves pushed them across the sea. The Winter Spirit hit every one of his targets, and a smile made its way onto his face.

_I've gotten better at long-range attacks_ , he mused, recalling when he had to touch his staff to everything to make it frost over.  _I wonder if it's because I'm more experienced, or because I have more… believers._

An icy anger gripped his heart and his next strike froze three times more area then he meant to, stretching dangerously close behind the ship. Jack mashed his lips together unhappily, still seething over what Pitch had done.

_He gave me believers by making them_ _**fear** _ _me. How does that even work? I'm the Guardian of Fun. Fun is the opposite of fear!_

_But Winter can be pretty scary,_  the darker part of him murmured.  _Don't act like you don't know how deadly you and your Season can be._

Jack irritably blasted the water again, watching it freeze into spiky icy. The fact that the pattern reminded him of what he and Pitch had created in Antarctica did nothing to improve his troubled mood. He did not turn when he heard someone walk up behind him.

"Still brooding?" Sabo asked casually.

Jack blinked, then huffed. "I'm not brooding. I'm  _angry_. Pitch corrupted something he had no right to touch. Add all the other things he's done, and I think I have a right to be ready to turn him into a popsicle."

He aimed without looking, and a huge chunk of ice formed in the air, falling into the ocean with a large splash that caused the boat to rock. The Revolutionary looked past the Guardian at the menacing ice sculptures, watching as they grew smaller the further away the ship sailed from them.

"I think you need to calm down." Sabo mentioned softly, brow furrowed.

Jack twitched and spun to face the Revolutionary, expression stony. "And  _I_  think you don't get how awful this is. Pitch gave me believers by making them  _fear_  me. Do you know how  _sick_  that is? Here's a comparison: Imagine instead of becoming brothers through shared sake, you did it with poison."

He smacked his staff onto the deck with more force then necessary, causing frost to spiral around the wood. "No, forget that.  _You_  didn't do anything. Instead an outsider heard you wanted brothers and forced the poison down your throats without your permission. It won't kill you, but it'll hurt a damn lot, and every time you think about the event you'll also remember the unnecessary suffering you went through to have brothers. How would  _that_  make you feel?"

Anger, shock, and disgust flickered across Sabo's face before he grimaced. "When you put it like that… I'm sorry."

Jack's own animosity faded, leaving him feeling tired and worn. "No,  _I'm_  sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you." He got off the railing, bare feet making a soft thud as he landed on the deck and he forced his posture to relax. "Just forget it. Did you need something?"

Sabo's visage grew shifty and he fiddled with his hat, avoiding the Guardian's expectant gaze. "I wanted to talk to you about… Luffy.  _IthinkweshouldtellhimAceisalive_." The last sentence was spoken in a rush, almost too quickly for the Guardian to understand it.

Jack blinked. And blinked. And blinked again. His grip on his staff tightened. "Huh."

The Winter Spirit could not conjure a more detailed response, a mixture of sad, hurt, and hopeful feelings rattling around his chest. Old fears threatened to rise to the surface but Jack pushed them away, plastering a grin on his face. It felt as brittle as dying leaves.

"Why now?"

Sabo's worry about the Guardian's reaction was so blatant it was almost laughable. "I wanted to talk about it earlier but it never seemed like the right time. Luffy stopped believing in you, and we both know that hurt you, and… and you resent him for it."

Jack's fragile grin became a careless, fake smirk. "Maybe a little."

The Revolutionary looked at him solemnly, a heavy question on his tongue. It burst out of him before he could stop it. "Are you angry at Luffy because Ace died for him?"

Jack reeled back like he had been struck. " _What?!_ " The Guardian spluttered. " _No!_  Why would I be?"

Sabo visibly relaxed, as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. "I think I already knew that but I needed to be sure." He leaned against the railing and stared out to sea, glancing sidelong at the Winter Spirit. "Could you explain why you're so upset at Luffy then? Why you don't want to try to make him believe again?"

Jack released a gust of air and sat cross-legged on the deck, back against the wooden posts. He put his staff across his knees and traced the grains in the wood with his forefinger.

"Luffy isn't the first person to stop believing in me." He said slowly. "It's hard, but I'm used to kids growing up and losing belief. It's part of being a Guardian. But… Luffy was different. I'm not upset because he stopped believing in me. I'm upset because he didn't try to believe again."

"The kid who wants to be Pirate King, loves 'mysteries', and dreams of adventure and miraculous tales couldn't see me." Jack threw his hands up in the air before letting them fall limply to his sides. "It's easier for people to believe in this world,  _so_  much easier for them to see Spirits than back on Earth. Ace and I did everything we could to convince Luffy I was real, but none of it worked. It took me a while, but I think I figured out why."

The Winter Spirit rolled his head and looked up at Sabo, eyes a dull, unhappy blue. "Luffy refused to see me. He saw evidence of my existence, and chose to  _ignore_  it. He was like a child that refused to admit that they had hidden their vegetables in their napkin. The parent can point them out but the kid is adamant that they aren't there. I don't know if he did it consciously or it was his nature, but Luffy was told about something he did not like and chose to think it—  _I_ — didn't exist."

The Guardian did not bother to hide the hurt and sorrow in his gaze. "No nonsense, realist Smoker can see me. Random strangers on islands can see me. I'm pretty sure Marco the Phoenix saw me at Marineford. Those who are down to earth or don't believe in magic and the supernatural can see me, but Luffy could not."

Sabo was silent for a long while, processing Jack's revelations with a stoic expression. When he spoke, his voice was low. "When you say it like that, it does seem like something Luffy is capable of. But I still think we should tell him about Ace. He's our brother. He has the right to know. And you won't be face to face just yet. I'll call him and we'll meet to make a plan." He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing audibly. "And as much as I hate to say it, we'll  _make_ Luffy believe in you. If his crew claims you exist, he'll be forced to acknowledge you as well."

Jack frowned. "I don't know how I feel about that."

"I understand, but we're trying to find and fight Pitch. Our allies will need to know you are there." Sabo pointed out.

The Guardian rolled his staff in his figners, face shadowed. After a moment, he stood up, tapping the wood on the deck. "Fine. Call him. We'll deal with whatever happens after."

Sabo grinned happily. "That's all I ask."

ROTGOPROTGOP

It was a wonderful day.

Luffy practically skipped as he made his way through the Thousand Sunny's lower deck, humming Bink's Sake as he went. More than a week after leaving the mystery island behind, the ship had finally made it to the next island the day before, which thankfully had everything Franky needed to repair her mast. The Sunny was fixed, no Nightmares had been spotted running about, Law was awake and moving around— ignoring Chopper's screeched orders to stay in bed— and the strange remorse that had been gripping Luffy for the first couple days after their departure had all but faded.

The Straw Hat Pirate could not even recall why he had been feeling so upset in the first place. Yes, he had accidentally hurt Law but the surgeon was okay now. Yes, he had accidentally abandoned his crew but none of them had been injured in his absence. Yes, he had seen an illusion of Ace but it was just that— an illusion. It was all in the past, and Luffy was not one to be dragged down by meaningless regrets.

_Purupurupuru._

Luffy paused, then took off running with a wild grin on his face as he recognized the sound of a Den Den. He skidded to a halt inside the room with one of the snails, who continued purring lowly. The Straw Hat Pirate lunged for the receiver, picking it up and grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello! This is Monkey D. Luffy! I'm going to become the Pirate King!"

The person on the other end gave an amused chuckle. "So I've heard, little brother."

The Straw Hat Captain's smile widened. "Sabo!"

"Hey." The Revolutionary greeted casually, though he sounded strained. "Listen, I don't have a lot of time. We need to meet."

Luffy frowned, gripping the receiver a little tighter. "Is everything okay? Are you in trouble?"

He reached up, taking a vivre card out of his hat, and let loose a relieved sigh when he saw it was still whole.

"No. I'm not in any danger or anything." Sabo was quick to reassure his brother. "I— Uh. I found out… Well, you see... Oh, Manny curse it, I'll just tell you. Ace is alive."

Luffy's mind went blank and the receiver slipped from his fingers, falling to the tabletop. His brain attempted to comprehend what had just been said, but it refused to turn the statement into discernable words. An odd, jumbled mess formed instead, emotions meshing together into a white noise that overtook his consciousness. He still had his senses, but the room seemed dark and far away, colors and sounds fading into a muted, eerie blur.

And then the thought snapped into place, ricocheting around his head like a bullet.

_Ace is alive._

_Ace is alive._

_Ace is alive._

_Ace is alive._

_He's alive he's alive he's—_

"—ffy! Are you okay?  _Answer me!_ "

Noise slowly returned in the form of Sabo's frantic voice, accompanied by the low buzz of two other speakers in the background. Luffy distantly identified them as a boy and girl, but his thoughts once again derailed as he circled back to his previous realization.

_Ace is alive._

Sabo was not a mean brother. He was a nice brother. He was a brother who would never say something like this unless he knew for a fact it was true. Sabo said Ace was alive. That meant  _Ace was alive_.

Elation tried to burst free of Luffy and a grin attempted to break out across his face, but for some reason he could not be happy and could not smile like he should. Instead a cold feeling settled in his heart and his pulse pounded in his ears, a rapid beat that spoke not of joy but of urgency, of panic. But why would he feel that way?

Sabo was still shouting through the Den Den, the other voices pitched high with unified worry. Vision gradually returned and Luffy fumbled with the receiver, holding it to his lips with quivering hands.

"Sabo? Is it true?" His voice was small, soft, and childish. It was not the tone of the exuberant future Pirate King, but of a terrified young boy who wanted reassurance from his big brother.

He did not know why he asked for confirmation. He already knew Sabo spoke only facts. The faint remorse that had been pestering him shot to the forefront of his mind, digging its claws deep into his gut as a realization that even he could not be oblivious to screamed the truth at him.

_Ace is alive. I saw him, didn't I? I_ _**left him in prison** _ _on that island. I_ _**abandoned** _ _him._

The reality he tried to deny suddenly was crystal clear to Luffy, the source of his distant guilt and insecurity storming into the light as it mocked him with its presence. The cloud of rampant emotions threatened to overwhelm the Straw Hat Pirate again, and he barely heard Sabo's gentle response to his question.

"Yes, it's true. Look, Ace is out there and we need to find him. We don't know where Ace is exactly. He's been captured by a man named—"

"Pitch Black." Luffy said numbly.

The Den Den's eyes went wide. "How do you know that?" When the pirate did not respond, the Revolutionary's voice grew hard. "Luffy? Tell me how you know that name."

"I met Pitch when I saw Ace." The words somehow made it past the Straw Hat Pirate's numb lips. "Ace— He was in a dark lair on a mystery island. I… left Ace there. I didn't think Ace was real."

Happiness—  _Ace is alive_ — tried to take hold again but was beaten back mercilessly by the weight of Luffy's failure, his thoughts repeating the same dreaded phrase over and over.

_I abandoned Ace. I abandoned Ace. I abandoned Ace. I—_

_I'm wasting more time._

The guilt tried to grip Luffy harder, but he found himself slipping from its grasp as another feeling took hold. Floundering happiness faded, remorse locked itself behind a steel door, and the Straw Hat Pirate's eyes hardened. He had made a mistake. He had left Ace in enemy hands. But sitting around and wallowing over the past was not going to help his brother.

"I need to rescue Ace."

It was not a question. It was not a suggestion. The sentence was a statement of fact, a promise burning with an unbreakable desire that was more important than anything else.

"Luffy, listen to me. Don't go running off, okay?" Nervous urgency entered Sabo's tone. "You said you found Ace on a mystery island? Is it near you? I'm already using your vivre card to locate you so we can make a plan. We're not that far away! Don't go without—"

Luffy hung up. The Den Den Mushi immediately began purring again, but the Straw Hat Pirate ignored it, racing to find his crew. He found them in the galley, with Sanji just setting out the midday meal. The cook crossed his arms, huffing as the rubber man burst into the room.

"There you are. I was about to send Chopper to find you. Seeing as how you weren't an hour early for lunch I was worried that—"

"We need to go back to Shadow Island." The Captain of the Straw Hat Pirates ordered.

His tone and his words got his crew's attention, the more relaxed pirates straightening as they all looked at Luffy. Nami was the first to speak, posture stiff and hands clasped together nervously.

"W-Why would we do that? We barely got away from those Nightmare things last time!"

Luffy's response was short and curt. "Sabo just called me. Ace is alive. He's being kept prisoner on that island."

Usopp nearly dropped his plate. Only a quick save from Sanji stopped the food from splattering on the floor. The cook gave the sniper a death glare, but Usopp's attention was on the Captain.

"W-What?!" the sniper squeaked.

"Ace was on the mystery island." Luffy said impatiently, hating every second they were wasting. "I thought he wasn't real but he was there."

"I— What are you— People don't just come back from the dead, Luffy." Nami blurted.

Luffy gave her a flat look. "Sabo said it was true."

She dropped it, holding back her protests. Zoro had no such reservations, levelling his Captain a stern stare.

"You can't just run in here and drop something like that on us. Take a minute to explain what the hell you're talking about, would you?" the swordsman said.

"Sabo  _called me_. He said  _Ace is alive_. I know where Ace is and we need to  _rescue him_." Luffy emphasized, voice lowering as slight anger accompanied his impatience.

Why did they not understand the urgency of the news? Why did they not get that they had to make it in time this time? Why did they not comprehend that Ace was… Ace was…

Luffy sat down heavily, eyes wide and breathing uneven. "Ace is alive. Ace is  _alive_."

_He's alive. He was on the island. He was in that dungeon. I saw him. We both saw…_

His gaze drifted to Law, who up until then had been sitting quietly in the corner. The surgeon met his gaze, fingers flexing but posture rigid and unyielding. Law cleared his throat, drawing the attention of all of the Straw Hat Pirates, but bowed his head so his hat shadowed his eyes.

"Straw Hat-ya is correct…" Law bit his lip, unable to look at Luffy. "His brother  _was_  there on Pitch Black's island."

At his confirmation, the rubber man went still, every inch of him freezing as if he had been turned to ice. His eyes went round, and a feeling he was unused to wriggled in his chest. It was cold and constricting, digging into his heart like a knife and hurting worse than almost any physical wound he had ever received. It felt like… like…

… _betrayal._

Luffy felt numb.

"Wait… you saw Ace?" Usopp asked tremulously.

"Yes. But the man who was keeping Fire Fist-ya imprisoned was too strong for us." Law continued quietly. "If we had stayed and attempted to free him, we both would have been killed. Fire Fist-ya realized this, so he pretended he was a hallucination in order to get Straw Hat-ya to leave without him."

"Do you think he's been kept there for the past three years?" Nami asked, face pale.

"It's possible." Law said flatly. "Fire Fist-ya did not react to us at first. He seemed to be under the impression that  _we_ were illusions in the beginning. He was also injured."

Something hot sparked to life in Luffy's chest.

"What are we supposed to do?" Usopp asked frantically. "If that Pitch guy is strong enough to keep  _Ace_  prisoner, how do  _we_  stand a chance?"

The spark became a steady, small candle.

"And if Ace has been tortured or something, he won't be able to fight with us." the sniper moaned, his imagination running wild as fear took hold.

"Usopp—" Chopper began, looking at Luffy.

"I mean, he  _has_  to have been tortured right? Pitch is a creep who can control nightmares, and how he drew you guys in with Ace's voice … He must have done something like that with Ace, right?"

The candle became a growing flame.

"Usopp—" Chopper repeated, eyes locked on his Captain.

"Not to mention that Pitch was probably really mad that we got away. Mad enough to take out his anger on Ace—"

" _Usopp!_ " Chopper said sharply. "Please,  _be quiet!_ "

The sniper finally noticed his Captain's pale complexion and trembling form. Guilt washed over his features.

"Luffy, I didn't— I mean, I'm sure Ace is fine." Usopp stammered.

The flames continued to simmer under the Straw Hat Pirate's skin. He noted them with a distant curiosity, letting the emotion fume aimlessly as it roiled and burned.

"Well, I think—" Law began.

"You knew he was there." Luffy said lowly, hat shadowing his eyes.

They all looked at him, but the Captain only paid attention to one grey stare, lifting his head slowly to meet Law's gaze. Looking into those calm, unrepentant orbs was all it took for the flames to become an inferno, exploding out of Luffy in an enraged shout.

"You lied to me!  _We could have helped him!_ " the Straw Hat Pirate screamed.

Chopper and Usopp flinched. Zoro and Sanji's visible eyes went wide. Robin set down her book. Brook and Franky fell back a step. Nami openly gaped at Luffy.

Law did not react, expression stoic and unruffled by his ally's furious outburst. When he spoke his voice was even. "I told you, Fire Fist-ya wanted us to get out. Even at full strength we would likely be no match for Pitch Black. It was illogical to linger and be trapped by our enemy."

The inferno burned white hot in Luffy's veins and he advanced on the surgeon, grabbing him by his shirt front and pulling him so they were nearly nose to nose. Law grimaced in slight pain, but quickly covered up his discomfort.

"I don't care! We could have tried to free Ace anyway." Luffy snapped, giving Law a harsh shake.

The surgeon paled slightly and yanked his shirt free of the rubber man's hold, glowering at his ally. His hand twitched towards his ribs but remained at his side.

"Staying there would have gotten us both killed." Law shot back. "Fire Fist-ya knew that. He made the decision to make you leave without him. As your brother, he chose to sacrifice his potential freedom to ensure you survived."

"You don't know that! You don't know what Ace would want!" Luffy snarled, fury overcoming his normally forgiving nature. "How would someone like  _you_  know about being a brother?"

" _I was one!_ " Law  _shouted_.

A heavy silence fell over the galley.

Law breathed heavily, grey eyes wild and jaw visibly clenched. The surgeon's hand reached up to press against his rib cage, and it was only then that Luffy remembered he had been injured. Before the Straw Hat Pirate could feel guilty or apologize, Law emitted a small, shuddering gasp. His angry expression faltered for a moment, revealing a harsh, heart-wrenching grief that was far from being healed.

"No older brother should let their younger sibling die." The Heart Pirate's voice shook and he tilted his hat so it hid his expression. "Not when they can prevent it."

The quiet lingered as the surgeon gathered himself, slipping back into stoic neutrality. "He wanted us to escape. He  _needed_  us to. How do you think he would have felt if you died in front of him?"

"Probably the same way I felt when he died in front of me."

The words escaped before Luffy could stop them. He blinked rapidly, shivering slightly, and wrapped his arms around himself. Memories of blood, fear, and grief welled up, but were pushed away as warm arms enveloped the Straw Hat Pirate. The rubber man peered around at his crew, who continued to hold him tightly. Of the Straw Hats, only Zoro and Sanji stayed away from the group hug. A glare from Nami sent them slinking over to join the impromptu huddle, their arms joining the others surrounding Luffy.

"You won't lose Ace again. We won't let that happen." The navigator assured her Captain quietly.

"I'm sure Ace will be okay. He's really strong." Chopper encouraged.

"It's going to be different this time." Zoro stated. "We're with you."

"The shitty Marimo is right." Sanji agreed without hesitation.

"Pitch may be a tough opponent, but we've beaten tougher guys before." Franky proclaimed with a fist pump.

"In this rescue attempt we're together, as we should be." Robin said firmly.

"Indeed. You aren't alone." Brook affirmed.

"We'll show that Pitch guy why he shouldn't mess with one of our friends!" Usopp boasted.

Luffy looked past them at Law, who held his gaze evenly. The Heart Pirate gave a slight nod, silently giving his distant support.

Fear and uncertainty drifted away, remorse and guilt faded into nothingness, and the Straw Hat Pirate punched the air, a brilliant smile on his face. "Let's go save Ace!"

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace wanted to break down and cry. It appeared he had enough pride left to resist the urge to burst into tears, but the fire-user was finding it harder and harder not to suffer a complete meltdown.

He was on the Moby Dick.

Again.

He had woken in the infirmary.

Again.

He was injured.

Again.

And he was pretty sure his crewmates hated him.

_Again_.

His room in the sickbay had become his new cell, and the fire-user did not have a clue whether it was an illusion or not. By his vague count, he had woken in over a thousand nightmares already.

He had been killed in more than a half of them.

He was abandoned in a third of the remaining ones.

If he somehow managed to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates for an extended period of time, he usually found himself placed in a psychiatric ward, hospital, or underground lab, accounting for another quarter of his dreams.

That still left over a hundred worlds were nothing noticeably bad had happened yet.

And then there were the numerous times where he regained consciousness to immediately find out Luffy was dead…

Ace had enough awareness to know he had roused in this reality before— if his broken collar bone and other wounds weren't enough of an indication— but he had no idea if he was still trapped in nightmares. If he remembered correctly, he had attempted to leave the ship after months of being held onboard, only to be… brutally stopped. Marco had gotten pretty angry when he tried to escape this Moby Dick, resulting in the fractured clavicle his hand was cupped against.

The fire-user sat beside the bed in his private room in the infirmary, disregarding the wires that should be attached to him and staring blankly ahead. He breathed in and out slowly, taking time to feel each intake of air, before letting it out in a rush. The action hurt, but he did it anyway, focusing on the pain and not the building anxiety.

He remembered what happened now. He had fallen unconscious after the Phoenix's furious attack, gone through another sixty-odd versions of life on the Moby Dick, and had eventually woken up back here with a terrified confusion and mounting despair. He was not certain, but this world was the one he most commonly 'woke' in, and he was beginning to nervously suspect it was in fact real.

This Moby Dick had been rather nice at first, maybe five months ago now? No one had tried to kill him when he first woke up, his crew did not despise him for being Roger's son— to his face, anyway— and Luffy was apparently still alive in this… world? Dream? Reality? The Whitebeard Pirates here had been patient, and accepted that he was brok—… not well, taking his problems in stride and accommodating for his… issues.

Ace had been relieved in the beginning, finding this world to be a kind reprieve between bouts of nightmare-filled unconsciousness. He had done his best to heal, to be a good son and brother and friend, and to learn to trust again with varying degrees of success. It had all come crashing down when he tried to find Jack, Luffy, and Sabo about a week after he regained consciousness. The fire-user had told Marco about his quest, and the Phoenix had shot him down furiously.

" _We're_  your family now. You don't need them."He had said.

The Summer Spirit silently disagreed, and had tried to fly off that night. Jozu broke Ace's leg catching him, and apologized profusely for it, saying it had been for the fire-user's own good. Ace believed him— he was weak, he wasn't strong enough yet, he would die before he found his brothers in his condition— but as soon as his leg healed he tried to leave again.

And again.

And again.

Every time a Whitebeard Pirate stopped Ace from searching for Jack, Luffy, and Sabo. Every time they said he should know better, and them keeping him here was for his health and sake. He was weak, they said. They were afraid to lose him again, they pleaded. They needed to protect him, they claimed.

Every time Ace's suspicions that they did not want him to find his sworn brothers grew stronger.

He would never say it aloud, and prayed that the Whitebeards would never know of his treacherous thoughts, but he slowly realized they were trying to make him choose. Choose between them and Jack, Luffy, and Sabo. Choose one family over the other.

It was never a choice, and it hurt to acknowledge that.

The door to his cell—  _room_  opened, and Marco entered, laid back and calm. Ace did not turn to look at the Phoenix as he sat on the bed beside him, staring down at the fire-user with half-lidded eyes.

"I'm sorry about hurting you." Marco said, sounding as sincere as he always did. "But you really should know better. We are  _not_  your enemies, yoi."

It was like Ace had traveled back in time to when he was trying to kill Whitebeard. He had gained many injuries then— much to Jack's displeasure— but in the Commander's and Yonko's defenses, the fire-user had been trying to assassinate their Captain. The injuries had happened because of his own stubbornness and pride. He had gotten  _these_ wounds because he was just in another prison he had been trying to break out of. A fancier, bigger, seemingly nicer prison, but a prison nonetheless.

Getting no response from Ace, the Phoenix sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "So that's it, then? You're not going to even argue or agree? It's nice to know you haven't lost your obstinate stupidity."

The fire-user said nothing, and Marco shook his head in disgust. " _Fine_. Be a selfish idiot. Oyaji's had enough. He's leaving you at the next island tomorrow morning."

The words were and were not what Ace wanted to hear. On the one hand, he could finally seek out his brothers—  _If this is real_ — but on the other…

"Don't think we've giving in, yoi. We've just grown tired of waiting for you to get over your little trauma." Marco continued curtly, proving his fears.

Ace lowered his head, cradling it on his knees as his eyes stung. He wasn't going to cry in front of Marco. The First Division Commander already had a low enough opinion of him, apparently. Even with his lack of tears, the fire-user's passive, accepting actions and lack of protest caused the Phoenix to scoff.

"I've run out of patience. How  _selfish_  can you be?" Marco snapped. "You think you had a hard time? I've had brothers who were tortured for  _years_  and have recovered quicker than you. You're pathetic, and worse than that, you're  _useless_. You can't talk, you don't fight, and you flinch like a coward whenever one of us comes near. We don't have time to coddle you, yoi. And Whitebeard has no use for a broken son."

Ace gritted his teeth, breath hitching. His shoulders shook slightly but he  _refused_  to let the tears fall.

_This is a good thing._  He tried to tell himself. _I'm not bound to stay here. I can go find Jack, Luffy, and Sabo now… if this is even real._

He did not cling to the hope that he was trapped in a nightmare and Marco was not really kicking him off the ship. He acknowledged he was damaged but surely the Whitebeard Pirates would not up and abandon him because of it?

_I tried to get better. I really did. I— I—_

Marco stood up, towering over Ace with shadowed eyes. The fire-user eyed him nervously caught between preparing to fight or run. The Phoenix saw his trepidation and scowled.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it. We'll be removing your tattoo before you go." He said flatly.

Ace's stomach twisted into knots and he felt the urge to retch. He knew Whitebeard was kinder than many pirate Captains, but had a feeling the removal of his mark did not involve simply taking out the dye. The Whitebeard Pirates had been furious when they saw the alterations done to his tattoo, and despite it being out of Ace's control, had blamed him for allowing it to happen. But even with the changes, the tattoo marked him as one of Whitebeard's sons, something that the fire-user no longer had the right to be.

Marco left and locked the door behind him, leaving Ace trapped inside. He momentarily considered breaking out before morning, but dismissed the idea. He would not run away. He would face his expulsion from the Whitebeard Pirates with dignity. Or as much as he could muster, anyway.

The black sand beckoned at him, the only constant in every one of his nightmares, but he ignored it, clenching his hands and making his nails dig into his palms. He was so  _tired_ , his exhaustion far past what was healthy and so deep in his bones he knew it would never leave. He had slept more time than he ever had, even with his narcolepsy, but he had not  _rested_  since long before Pitch captured him. He just wanted to sleep without nightmares, without death, and without fear.

_Stay awake. Who knows where I'll wake up next. Stay_ _**awake** _ _._

Despite his best efforts, he slipped into darkness.

He woke _in the cell_.

An agonized wailing noise reached Ace's ears, and it took a moment for him to realize he was the source of the awful sound. His jaw clicked closed even as his chest heaved, panicked ember-colored eyes roaming over the place he swore he had escaped. He instantly spotted the last person he wanted to see and the fire-user felt ice-water trickle through his veins.

"Calm down, Ace. I'm not going to hurt you." Pitch said, seemingly sincere.

He pushed off the wall he had been leaning against and approached at a casual pace. Ace eyed him warily, standing up and pressing his back to the stone behind him as the chains around his ankles clinked. His mind raced frantically, but he managed to summon a neutral expression.

_I escaped. I_ _ **know**_ _I escaped. I did. I was— am free. This is a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Pitch can't actually hurt me again._ His fear faded and his glare grew hard.  _I know this is a dream. There's nothing to be afraid of here._

Pitch chuckled. "Are you planning on giving me the silent treatment? You're in a  _dream_. You can talk here if you want."

"Screw you." Was Ace's quiet response.

The Nightmare King looked offended. "Now that's rude. I spared your life and that's what you have to say to me?"

"Oh I'm sorry." Ace snapped. "Excuse me for being upset with the bastard who nearly b-beat me to d-death."

He twitched but repressed the memory that wanted to rise, readily gripping the anger that simmered in his veins. Pitch spotted his initial discomfort and smirked.

"How inconsiderate. I was quite glad to find out you survived." Pitch said in that genuine-sounding tone of his.

"Why? So you can keep trying to break me?" Ace growled. "I escaped your lair. You can't touch me."

The Nightmare King's hand snapped out and gripped his arm, sending bolts of pain up the limb. The fire-user cringed, body contorting slightly as he doubled over in response to the black sand churning in his veins. Thankfully, Pitch released him almost immediately, his point made.

"Foolish boy." The Spirit of Fear sighed, shaking his head as an elegant hand gestured at the Summer Spirit's cursed body. "You may have gotten away from me physically, but you didn't escape  _that_. Besides, I am the  _Nightmare_  King. How do you think I'm talking with you now?"

A part of Ace seethed at the Spirit of Fear's mocking tone. Another part curled up into a tiny ball and whispered that he just wanted it all to  _stop_.

"I can still win." Ace said, hiding his insecurities behind a confident front.

Pitch saw right through his façade. "Don't lie to me. I know that you haven't the slightest clue if you've woken up since our last confrontation. How about I give you a little help in that matter? You've regained consciousness once, and only once."

The fire-user did not bother searching the Nightmare King's face for any signs of deception. Pitch was as open as a book coded with invisible ink that was scribed in a long-dead language no one knew. He chose the truth when it suited him, twisted it to fit his goals when it did not, and abandoned honesty all together if it got in the way of his manipulations.

_Can I believe him?_  Ace asked himself.  _Why would he tell me that?_

"You wouldn't happen to want to tell me which world was the real one, would you?" he asked rather sarcastically, despite knowing the answer.

"No." Pitch said simply.

Ace ground his teeth, temper flaring. "Then fu—"

The fire-user could only watch helplessly as Akainu tormented Luffy, the Admiral not going straight for the kill this time as he burned his screaming little brother's limbs one by one—

He ran through an empty ship as it sank, unable to find anyone as water surged up through the woodwork and he drowned alone—

He flinched as bottles and objects were thrown at his head, broken glass cutting a deep gash above his eye as the villagers screamed at him that he was a monster because of his blood—

He kept his head down as Whitebeard looked at him in disgust, lip curled up in a sneer as he informed Ace that he was not his son, he would never be his son, he did not deserve to be his—

Ace found himself on the floor of the cell, curled up into a fetal position as he shuddered violently. Pitch smirked down at him, crouching beside the Summer Spirit and gently ruffling his hair. The touch felt cold, slimy, and constrictive like a snake's fatal squeeze, and the fire-user gagged, his skin crawling.

"You really don't understand, do you? It will  _never_  end. You're already broken. You're already irreversibly changed. Even if you 'get better' you won't be the same. Your fear will torment you, haunting you until you give up and die."

Pitch stood once more, head tipped and eyes glinting in the darkness. "And you really  _should_  die rather than meet the Guardians. They won't welcome you. Not after you abandoned one of theirs."

For a panicked moment, Ace thought he had somehow left Jack in danger. Yes, he had abandoned Jack in the sense that the Summer Spirit had been captured, but that hadn't been his fault. It  _hadn't_. Then what…?

He remembered crumpled turquoise feathers.

"Where is Baby Tooth?  _What did you do to her?!_ " Ace shouted, leaping to his feet and struggling against his bonds.

"Always so protective..." Pitch chuckled appreciatively, clapping his hands together. "She's alive and in my care, of course. Don't worry. I haven't infected her with my sand. Though I do wonder what that would do to Toothiana…"

"I'll rescue her." Ace snarled. "And I will  _destroy_  you."

The Nightmare King looked unconcerned by his threat. " _Right_. Be careful with that anger, boy. You may just do something you'll regret."

Sand shifted in his hands, turning into a spear. Ace swallowed roughly but did not flinch, more than used to dying by now.

"After all… you want to be able to go home, do you not?"

Smirk duly in place, Pitch stabbed the Summer Spirit straight through the heart.

The ceiling of the Moby Dick or 'Moby Dick' or wherever he was waking up was becoming a repetitive, unwanted sight. Ace could only stare at the familiar wooden planks with a tired, angry acceptance.

The fire-user felt bandages wrapped around his torso and identified each of his other aches with a detached casualness. The injuries were the ones he had gotten when Pitch had— from Pitch. That meant he was in a new cycle of nightmares, or close to the beginning of one at least.

Falling into routine, Ace did not hesitate to sit up and detach the wires from his body, ignoring the pain as he tried to get to his feet. He dismissed the shrieking of the machines beside him and laid his hands on the bed, using them as leverage to wobble into a standing position. Based on the patterns he had grown used to, the Whitebeard Pirates would be barging into his room in a second.

_Don't react to them_ , he recited, weary beyond words.  _They're probably nightmares._

He desperately wished he had a way to tell if he was asleep or not.

His hand clenched into a fist, and it was then that the fire-user noticed something around his wrist. Ace looked at the thin seastone bracelet, unimpressed, and melted it with a burst of flame. The metal sizzled as it turned red hot and dripped down his hand and onto the floor, but the Summer Spirit was unharmed. Heat would  _never_  hurt him again.

Right on time, a doctor he did not recognize, Whitebeard's own doctor— Bay— and Marco slammed open the door and raced into the room…

…And there was Thatch again.

_Dammit._

Thatch seemed to be a pretty good way for him to tell if he was experiencing a nightmare or not. He  _knew_  the Fourth Division Commander was dead. He had seen the body sprawled on the deck more than three years ago, and had gone out for vengeance hours afterward. Besides, surely Marco or one of the others would have mentioned if Thatch had somehow survived at Marineford.

"Why is it that every time I leave for a se— What are you  _doing?!_ " Bay snapped, outraged to see her patient up and stumbling around. "Get back in bed  _right now!_ "

Ace did not care about her threatening tone. If she hurt him for his impudence, then that would only add proof to his belief that he was dreaming. The real Bay would not punish him for ignoring her… right? He completely disregarded the fakes, walking forward determinedly and fighting the exhaustion in his limbs.

As had become his habit, Ace would attempt to get off of the Moby Dick the moment he woke. On the off chance he was somehow in reality, he needed to start searching for Jack, Luffy, and Sabo— and Baby Tooth now as well. Honestly, he had grown tired of explaining his mission to 'the Whitebeard Pirates' over and over, and had long ago decided just to act like they did not exist until they forced their way into his life. Usually through one of his crewmates striking him and demanding he 'stop zoning out' or the like.

He would not fight back if they stopped him from leaving the ship though. The amount of force they used varied from nightmare to illusion, but at worst Ace usually ended up with a few broken bones or a stab wound. They rarely outright killed him, although if they did it was almost helpful. Nightmares where he died resulted in fewer different dreams to cycle through, and that meant he was closer to finding reality, right?

Reminded of his inability to know if he was currently stuck inside his own mind, Ace wanted to sit in the corner and sob like a lost child. He stifled the urge, marching forward resolutely. Marco and Thatch predicted his destination and blocked the doorway. The fire-user immediately paused. They did not grab him, much to relief, and so the three former crewmates stared each other down— two confused and concerned, one nervously detached. Ace's gaze flicked to Thatch repeatedly, without his permission, and he felt his mood sour further.

_You can't be alive. You can't be. Why am I even bothering to try to get off the ship when I know this isn't real?_

The Summer Spirit felt anger bubble up inside him but he held it back. He made sure to take note of the unknown doctor and Bay's positions as well, not trusting them to refrain from drugging— or attacking— him when his back was turned.

"Ace, it's okay. You're on the Moby Dick. You're safe, yoi." Marco soothed, stepping forward with a peaceful gesture. Ace inched backwards and the Phoenix halted, then continued talking in that same soft tone. "How about you get back in bed? James and Bay need to look you over."

Ace glanced at the male doctor again, finally noticing the Jolly Roger on his bandanna. So he was one of Shanks' men.

_Shanks. Shanks. When did I last hear about Shanks…?_

Memory struck and Ace backed away from the doctors, his bandaged back smacking into the wall opposite the door. He could feel his heart pounding loudly in his chest and his hand twitched, covering the crook of his elbow.

_This is the one where they drugged me_ , he thought, stomach churning.  _That stuff made me fall into a different nightmare—_ _ **worse**_ _nightmares. I couldn't get out. What if they do that again?_

Marco grimaced before covering the expression up with a placid look. "Do you remember waking up before?"

The terror that traveled through Ace's veins stayed off his face, a mask of serene apathy plastered on his features. He kept his arms crossed, hands pressed protectively over the insides of his elbows as he did his best to stay still and not make any sudden movements. Just because he was used to things going badly for him, did not mean he was overcoming his fears or wanted to trigger the darker parts of the nightmare.

_I have to be careful. If I do something wrong, they'll turn on me. They always turn on me. But it's fine. I'm fine. I can do this._

He clenched his teeth, refusing to cry in front of the hallucinations. However, he could not stop the tears from welling up in his eyes, and Marco inhaled sharply.

"James, Bay, please give us a moment." He said.

The two doctors left without protest and with near-identical expressions of discontent on their faces, but Ace relaxed, happy they— and their needles— were gone. Marco approached the Summer Spirit slowly, while Thatch stayed back by the door.

_To guard it or keep me from running?_  Ace wondered.

He could not retreat further, and found it more and more difficult to keep his face impassive as Marco closed the distance between them. When the First Division Commander was just over an arm length away, Ace's mask cracked and he could not stop the panic that made his eyes widen with fear. Marco immediately halted.

_No. Don't show fear. Detach. Repress._

Ace managed to summon a stoic expression again, but knew Marco was not fooled by it in the slightest.

The Phoenix gave a tired sigh. "I don't know what's going through that head of yours, but know you are  _safe_ , Ace. You are safe and home and no one here is going to hurt you."

Ace stared at him in disbelief and sank deeper into apathy. How many times had he heard similar phrases from the First Division Commander's mouth? How many times had he dreamt up 'reunions' that only ended in suffering and grief?

If—  _When_  he finally did meet the Whitebeard Pirates again, the fire-user predicted he would be too used to the same old comforts and meaningless words to feel emotional about the whole thing. It was like hearing the same song over and over, each consecutive listen resulting in less joy in the experience as the tune got stuck in one's head and grew irritating and boring.

Ace hoped that he'd be able to act appropriately when he truly saw his friends and family again. How hurt would they be if he acted like an emotionless, uncaring ghost when they reunited? They would be angry at him, and would likely hate him. At least he was still capable of caring about Luffy, Sabo, and Jack. Very few of his nightmares involved them now— and if they did his brothers usually died— as if the black sand could sense that he would not be caught by fake brothers telling him he was hated. Ace was not completely lost. Not yet.

_Lies, lies, lies,_  Ace chanted silently.  _I don't have time for this. I need to find my brothers and rescue Baby Tooth._

He avoided touching Marco, inching around him and heading back towards the door. Thatch did not move, standing firmly in the doorway with a hand raised at chest level. He did not touch Ace.

"Oh no you don't. I know you're always eager to get out of here, but this is a new record even for you." The cook said cheerfully but with an underlying layer of stress. "I'm honestly surprised you're able to walk around right now."

The more the illusion talked, the louder the flames roared under Ace's skin. His fist clenched as he stared at the fake with an unreadable expression. Thatch's strained smile grew dim but he held it in place.

"Um, so I'm alive. So are you, apparently." The Fourth Division Commander blurted, and gave an awkward chuckle. "You know, this isn't the reunion I pictured..."

The fake continued to ramble and Ace's carefully-maintained apathy shattered. Rage tore through him with the ferocity of a wildfire. He hated Pitch, he hated the black sand, he hated the nightmares, and he  _despised_  these fucking illusions that pretended to be people  _he knew were dead_. Over and over and over and over and over and  _OVER—_

Ace's frustration reached its boiling point, and he gave Thatch a harsh shove. The cook flew back out the door before hitting the ground with a thud, skidding another foot before coming to a halt out in the main sickbay. Everyone present in the infirmary froze. The Fourth Division Commander lay on his back for a moment, surprise etched on his face. Then Thatch propped himself up onto his elbows, looking at Ace with stunned, hurt eyes.

The fire-user went bone white.

_I pushed Thatch. I pushed Thatch. Oh Manny, they're going to hate me. I hurt their brother. I attacked him. They're going to—_

Ace retreated back to the wall as Marco's expression shifted from confusion to anger. The Phoenix approached and the Summer Spirit slid to the floor, covering his head as a shadow fell over him. At the edge of his vision, he could just see the blonde pirate raise his arm. Ace flinched, prepared for a blow, but Marco only laid a hand on his forearm. Knives stabbed into his skin at the point of contact and the fire-user jerked out of his grasp. The Pheonix put his hands up in a calming gesture.

"Calm down, Ace. I'm not going to hurt you, yoi." Marco soothed, echoing Pitch's words from his last nightmare. "It's okay. You're okay…"

Panic, fury, and disgust churned through the fire-user, and he mutely shook his head back and forth, not letting his guard down.

_Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. I just want my brothers_ , he thought brokenly, expression crumpling. He forced the mask back into place.  _Idiot. Don't show fear. But since this is a nightmare they must already know about it… Don't think about it. Calm down. Calm._

Thatch joined his fellow Commander as he knelt in front of Ace, smile brittle but still bright. "Hey, hey. I'm fine. Nice to know you can still pack a punch."

Ace stared at him dully, not saying a word. Not that he could even if he wanted to.

_Lies. Fake. It's all—_

Something dark caught the corner of his eye and he twisted his head, peering upward.

Pitch stood in the doorway.

It took a moment for Ace to realize what he was seeing, but when he did, his eyes widened and his mouth opened in a voiceless scream. Marco spun as blue flames rippled down his shoulders and Thatch drew his swords, but when they turned to the Nightmare King they did not attack.

Why? Did they know who he was? Were they allies in this dream? Was that actually Pitch or a figment of his nightmares taking the form of the Nightmare King?

The Phoenix transformed back into a full human and went back to Ace, gripping his shoulders. The Summer Spirit registered the heat, pain, and discomfort of Marco's hands on him and he shuddered, shying away from the Phoenix. The contact did not calm him, instead feeling unwanted and stressful and disturbing.

"Ace, what's wrong? What are you looking at?" Marco asked urgently, dismissing the fire-user's obvious nausea for the moment.

Ace stared past him at Pitch, who smirked back at the Summer Spirit. He lifted a thin finger to his mouth and made a shushing motion before vanishing like a fleeing shadow. Ace's breathing slowed to a healthier pace, and he felt himself relaxing now that the Nightmare King had gone. The black sand beckoned at him and exhaustion caressed his limbs, making his eyes flutter.

_No. No. Not now. Stay awake. Stay in this reality._

He felt himself being pulled downward again, the most recent sickbay fading away no matter how hard he tried to maintain it.

_Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay…_

For over the thousandth time, Ace fell into nightmares.

He woke in the sickbay, with Marco at his side.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Pale orange eyes slid closed, and Marco let out an unhappy sigh as he caught Ace before he could slump to the ground. He scooped the unconscious fire-user up into his arms and set him gently on the bed, brushing his black hair out of his face.

_What happened to you, kid?_  He thought sadly.  _What did you go through that has made you so afraid?_

"He hates me."

In any other circumstances, Marco may have found Thatch's moaned words to be amusing. As it were, he put a hand on his brother's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. He moved past the cook, poking his head out the door.

"Bay! James! He's asleep again."

The two doctors unapologetically shoved the Phoenix aside as they returned to their patient. James began reattaching the wires Ace had torn out and checked his vitals, while Bay pinned the two conscious Whitebeard Pirates with a menacing glare.

"Why did you make us leave? We should have stayed in here." She growled.

"He was terrified of you, yoi." Marco defended himself. "He remembers you sedating him when he woke before."

"He was hurting himself and could have hurt you." Bay replied shortly. "Now get out. You're in the way."

Marco and a crestfallen Thatch were unceremoniously ousted from the room. The Phoenix watched the door slam shut behind them and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I have to wonder if all doctors are so possessive of their patients, or if it's just a trait in every single one I've met."

Thatch did not respond and Marco glanced at his brother, taking in his miserable visage. His shoulders were hunched, his hands limp at his sides, and even his pompadour seemed to be drooping. The chef gave the Phoenix a look that would not seem out of place on a wounded puppy.

"He hates me." Thatch repeated quietly.

Marco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He doesn't hate you, yoi."

"Yes he does." Thatch said miserably. "You saw how he reacted to me. He was distant or scared with you and the doctors, but when he looked at me, he was  _pissed_."

"That doesn't mean he hates you." The First Division Commander denied. "He's probably just… surprised you're okay."

It had been a miracle that Thatch survived Teach's attack. The Fourth Division Commander had passed out from blood loss and been taken to surgery, but by the time word came along that he would live, Ace had been long gone. The Fire Logia had not brought a Den Den Mushi with him when he left the ship, leaving the Whitebeard Pirates with no way to contact him to tell him the good news. The next time they met was at Marineford and there had been no time to share that Thatch had survived then.

Thatch had been on a mission when Ace was first brought to the Moby Dick, arriving back to the ship the day before the fire-user had awoken. When the fire-user finally had regained consciousness after nearly a week of worry, the cook had dashed to see his long-time friend once more… only for Ace to react so badly to the sight of Thatch that the doctors had to sedate the kid.

_First Thatch survived, now Ace_ , Marco mused.  _I still can hardly believe it._   _But based on his reactions to everything, Ace must have been held prisoner some time for the past three years..._

It was the logical conclusion that explained Ace's fear and mistrust, and the First Division Commander despised it. The thought of the fire-user being held against his will somewhere while his brothers moved on with their lives made the Phoenix's blood boil, but he withheld the urge to rampage through a few Marine bases.

Even if Ace had not been captured for all of the years since Marineford, he still went through the wringer recently. Along with the physical injuries, there was a deep-rooted fear that his youngest brother tried to hide which was still visible in his near-lifeless ember-like eyes. The kid was obviously doing his best to detach himself from everything and failing miserably.

What had he gone through that made Ace flinch so terribly every time someone touched him? What had he been subjected to that made him so terrified of people he should know would never harm him? After he pushed Thatch, the kid had acted like he thought Marco was going to straight up murder him in retaliation. The way he had curled up and shielded his head, cowering before the First Division Commander… The Phoenix aborted that line of thought before it could anger him further, speaking to Thatch again.

"Trust me, Ace would never hate you for surviving. He's just a bit disorientated and confused right now. Once he calms down a bit we'll talk to him and you'll see he's glad you're alive." The Phoenix's lips quirked. "At worst he might punch you for making him think you were dead."

"Hypocrite." Thatch said, but there was no malice in the word. He glanced back at the closed door and exhaled sharply, fury flashing across his normally-kind features. "I hope we get some answers soon. I want someone to blame for Ace's condition. When I find out who hurt him…"

Marco agreed with his unspoken promise of violence. Sitting around without an enemy to get revenge on was not his style, and he wanted nothing more than to maul whoever had tormented Ace into bloody shreds. For now, however, they had to wait. For Ace to recover, for bonds to be reforged, and for a name to hunt down and make pay.

Marco clapped Thatch on his shoulder, steering him out of the sickbay. "Come on. We'd better report to Oyaji. He'll want to know what happened."


	13. Bargaining

Ace stumbled between Izo and Vista as they dragged him onto the island, throwing him carelessly to the dirt. The fire-user hit the ground, sand digging into the lacerations on his back and making his teeth clench in pain, but he somehow kept his expression controlled. He could not show more weakness. Not that it mattered anyway. The two Commanders were already walking away, not bothering to say a word to the pirate who used to be one of them.

The fire-user lifted himself up into a sitting position, leaning heavily on to one side, and watched hollowly as his former brothers got further and further from him. Ace twisted his arm and attempted to touch his back, only to falter when his movement caused his wounds to tear further.

He did not need to see it to know his tattoo was gone. His mark was no longer decipherable among the strips of bloody skin his back had become, the tattoo having been whipped off less than an hour ago. The grinning, mustache-bearing skull he had once born with pride was now lost among the crimson gashes and swollen flesh.

Ace could take some pride in the fact that he had not fallen unconscious during the ordeal, but the feeling was overcome by a numb, distant desperation. Even as he was flayed he had clung to the hope that there had been a mistake, that he was in a nightmare, and that the Whitebeard Pirates were not actually expunging him from the crew and leaving him alone.

And yet here he was, sitting on a deserted island as Izo and Vista returned to the Moby Dick without him. Whitebeard and Marco could not be bothered to say goodbye to the forsaken ex-Commander, ordering Ace off the ship as soon as the final lash had struck. They had not given him any bandages to care for his wounds.

_But it's okay. I'm okay. I can do this._

Ace tried to tell himself that this had to be a nightmare, and even if it was not, everything was still alright because he could search for his brothers and Baby Tooth freely now. His lackluster attempts at consoling himself resulted in nothing, and the fire-user began to tremble as the Commanders got into a small boat and sailed back towards the anchored Moby Dick.

_Don't leave me. Please. I'll get better. I'm still strong. I can prove it, if you just give me a chance._

He could not speak the words, and was not sure he wanted to. The Commanders had reached the ship, and Ace could see as they climbed up the side of the ship on the offered ladder.

_I don't need to be a Commander. I don't even need to be part of the crew, or your family. Just let me stay. Just…_

The ship vanished on the horizon. Ace let himself fall back to the ground, watching the tide push and pull the water in front of him. He could not summon the energy to cry, so he simply stared ahead without truly seeing anything at all. He should be happy. He was off the Moby Dick. He could find Jack, Luffy, Sabo, and Baby Tooth… if this was real.

_It's okay. I'm okay. I'm fine._

But his father had abandoned him. His older brothers were gone. They were disgusted with him and had effectively disowned him, not even thinking to bandage his wounds before leaving him on the first island they saw. And yet Ace could not bring himself to hate or blame them. He knew this might be a nightmare, but he also knew that the world did not revolve around him. If Whitebeard thought it best for the crew that the fire-user be dismissed, then Ace had no right to argue with him.

Ace knew he was trying to rationalize it all, but his efforts did not help dissuade the emptiness in his chest. He curled up on the sand, uncaring of the burning dirt in his wounds and looming tides that crept towards him, and gladly let the black sand grasp him, pulling him away from this terrible reality.

He was in his bed in the infirmary once more.

Thatch stood over him, a kitchen knife in his hand.

Ace froze, entire body tensing as his gaze fixated on the dagger. The cook did not move, arm raised and knife pointed downward as he frowned delicately at the fire-user. The Fourth Division Commander lowered the blade to his side.

"Oh, you're awake. I'll come back later." Thatch said with a serene smile.

He backed out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

Ace watched him go, too shocked to move. His heartbeat slowed eventually, but he kept his eyes on the door. Even with the blankets covering him he was still cold, shivering violently as he refused to look away from the only entrance to the room.

His limbs and eyes grew heavy but he resisted the lull of sleep, too terrified that Thatch was going to come back and…

Darkness.

Touch.

Vision.

…Infirmary.

Ace let his gaze drift to the wires attached to his arm before looking away, not bothering to tear the IV from his skin. Bay always got mad when he did that, often shouting about how stupid he was for touching the equipment, and getting angry enough to inject him with cyanide in one nightmare. His death had not been quick or pleasant in that dream, with the doctor not giving him the dosage necessary for an instantaneous demise.

The fire-user shivered at the memory, then snapped his head to the left when the door to his room opened. Bay walked in, humming vaguely and dragging a cart of equipment behind her. Her expression brightened when she spotted Ace.

"You're up again. Good." The doctor said calmly.

_Please don't hurt me_   _this time_ , was Ace's only thought.

Bay went through her usual routine, checking his vitals and bandages while chatting amicably about unimportant things. Ace let the words wash over him, not quite willing to relax. He watched her every move like a hawk, tensing when she frowned as she checked his pulse.

"Your heartbeat is a little fast for my liking. Not to worry. I have something that will help."

She went back to her cart, pulling it closer to the bed. Ace purposely tried not to look at it, but a reflection caught his eyes, and soon enough he found himself staring at various needles that were placed neatly in a row. His heartrate increased and a sheen of sweat covered his skin.

_Please don't hurt me._

Bay noticed his expression and gave him a gentle, reassuring smile. "I know you don't like shots, but these are going to help you, Ace. They're going to make you feel better."

Ace did not care. He was perfectly content with the constant ache in his chest and the slight pain in other parts of his body. It wasn't like medicine would make the black sand go away, so he could handle the discomfort his wounds brought. He also did not want Bay to stick him with anything.

The fire-user did not shake his head in rejection, however. He did not dare to. He could not remember if it was exactly true in reality, but even before all of this Bay tended to get angry if people tried to avoid treatment. Ace did not want to be on the brunt end of her rage.

And so he did his best to stay calm as Bay reached for the first injection, picking it up delicately. Ace flinched but did not resist as she grabbed his head, forcing it back as she emptied the syringe directly into his neck. The fire-user felt his body lock in place, and was horrified to discover he could not even twitch his fingers.

_No. Not again. No. Nononono—_

Bay released him, still smiling serenely. "Sorry about that. I can't have you wiggling about."

She picked up the next drug, flicking the syringe with her forefinger to make sure there were no air pockets floating in the liquid. "I really hate you, you know. You've hurt us in the worst possible way, and yet you don't even feel bad about it. You made us go to war with the Marines, caused the deaths of so many of your brothers, then had the gall to die and make our efforts worthless... And after all of that you had the nerve to  _come back_  and expect us to welcome you."

The needle went into the crook of his elbow and every touch grew more pronounced, the drug amplifying his tactility, and the doctor's gentle prodding felt like iron nails being driven into his skin.

Bay picked up a third syringe. "Jozu lost an arm."

Same arm, further down. Ace's veins burned as if they were filled with magma, his insides smoldering and disintegrating even though they remained intact and unmarred. He wanted to scream, to shudder, to show his pain, but he could only lay there, helpless, immobile.

_Stop. Please stop. It hurts._

"Oars Junior was killed, along with countless other crewmates."

Other forearm. This injection was knives of ice that was nearly as cold as the black sand. It stabbed through flesh and bone without leaving a mark, refusing to let him be numb.

_I'm sorry. Please don't blame me. He shouldn't have come for me. None of you should have come…_

"Atmos was forced to fight and murder his own division."

This one went in his stomach, the doctor slow to push the large needle into his abdomen before emptying it. It felt like Ace's organs were being torn apart by a beast's claws, his wide eyes rolling back in his head. Other than that he could not move an inch.

_I'm sorry. Please stop._ _**Please** _ _. I won't do it again. I'll repay you. Or I'll leave. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't—_

"And Whitebeard almost died. My  _Oyaji_  was almost killed. And do you know why all of that happened?"

The next needle was jabbed into his ribcage, its contents expunged, and Ace found it difficult to breathe. He gasped, low and rasping, his paralyzed body unable to spasm as it thought he was being suffocated. Tears trickled down over his temples as he lay there, burning, freezing, and choking, unable to show his pain in any other way.

Bay leaned close to him, eyes dark and filled with hatred. "It was all because of you.  _You_. A stupid, arrogant son of a  _demon_. You should have just died when Teach captured you. No, you should have been killed before you had a chance to be born. All you do is bring misery and pain to the people around you. You're a monster. You're not worth saving, and you're not worth protecting."

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was born._  Ace did his best to convey his remorse with his teary eyes, but if the doctor saw his sorrow she ignored it.

She straightened, expression going flat, and calmly picked up another injector. "As the doctor it's my job to protect this crew from diseases, and that's what I plan to do." She gave him a cruel smirk. "I just have to perform some tests to see which 'cure' can kill the  _parasite_."

Ace closed his eyes. The next drug forced its way into his veins, ripping him apart from within, and the fire-user could not even scream.

The cold stone of the cell floor was almost a relief.

Ace flicked his eyes up to meet Pitch's before letting them concentrate on the Nightmare King's feet. The fire-user was positioned on his uninjured side, one arm under his head while the other lay limply over his stomach. He shifted his feet and heard the manacles clink.

"I'm almost disappointed." Pitch said casually, not waiting for the Summer Spirit to speak. "You're doing even worse than you were with me. Do you want to know your current statistics?"

Ace did not try to respond.

"You've been through over eighteen hundred nightmares, and have only managed to wake up six times. Oh, and that last little world was a dream by the way. Thought you should know."

The fire-user stayed mute.

The Nightmare King shook his head, lips twitching. "Still, what an abysmal record for someone who was so determined to  _reunite with their brothers_."

The last few words were spoken mockingly, and Ace felt a bolt of anger. It drifted away too quickly for him to grab it. He decided he was just happy Pitch was not killing him yet. The Nightmare King had already done it five times, and although the fire-user was used to it, he could not help but panic slightly whenever Pitch murdered him, thus forcing him into another most-likely fake reality.

And it had to be fake, because the Nightmare King always showed up on that 'Moby Dick', smirking in a doorway or corner and watching Ace with knowing yellow eyes. He never spoke, and no one else noticed him but he was always  _there_. It was both unnerving and creepy, and Ace knew Pitch was doing it on purpose.

_Only six times…?_  Ace mused unhappily.  _I've only been awake_ _ **six**_ _times?_

He felt a small glimmer of joy when he realized that meant the Whitebeard Pirates whipping and abandoning him had indeed been a dream, but his triumph was swiftly snuffed out when he remained incapable of identifying reality.

_Still, I woke up. I did. I'm not just cycling through nightmares._

_I can do this._

It was so,  _so_  hard to cling to the dwindling threads of hope, but Ace did not have another choice. He still had to try even though he would likely fail, otherwise he would fall to the black sand. He had to survive against all odds. Even if his heart had already given up, and he was deluding himself into thinking otherwise.

"Here's an idea." Pitch offered. "How about you kill yourself in a few of those dreams? I'm sure that will deplete the number of nightmares you'll suffer."

His words were callous, but his tone was polite and sincere, as if he were telling the Summer Spirit that herbal teas might help. For a moment, Ace seriously considered his words, but recoiled as soon as he realized what he was doing.

_Bad thoughts. Bad. Don't ever think of— What would Jack think? What would Luffy and Sabo think? And the others?_

The fact that he had thought about it— even for a second— made Ace feel colder than he already did.

"I'm not that desperate." He whispered with more conviction than he felt.

"Trust me, you will be." Pitch said ominously. "And you'll  _cry_  when you don't succeed. The nightmares… It's almost like you're trapped in a time loop. You wake up and try to move on with your life, only to fall asleep or for your fears to manifest at random, resulting in the cycle starting all over again. Your fears may be numerous, but they are not infinite, and so they repeat. Over and over and over until you grow tired and... give in."

Intense eclipse-like eyes bore into Ace's and Pitch spoke in a soft, velvety tone. "I wonder how long it will be before you give up on everything. Like I told you before: Determination can only take you so far."

The fire-user shivered at Pitch's caustic tone as he described his fate. A thought niggled at the back of Ace's mind, and he sat up, lifting his head to peer at the Spirit of Fear.

"You speak as if you've lived it. Did you go through this when you became the Nightmare King?" he found himself asking.

Pitch's expression jerked, shadows dashing across his sharp features before his face grew stony. Ace flinched, and felt a rush of shame at his reaction. Before he could berate himself, the Nightmare King responded.

"Indeed." His savage grin held no joy as he took in the Summer Spirit's stunned expression. "What? Did you think the Fearlings just devoured Kozmotis in an instant and I was born? No. To the outside world, it only took a second, but the battle in m— his soul took  _decades_. I saw my fears play out over and over in front of me, until his will was vanquished and his spirit was torn to shreds by his nightmares."

It was too easy for Ace to picture it. Months, maybe even years had passed in the fire-user's nightmares, but he was certain it had not been nearly that long in the outside world. The black sand had all the time it needed to wear him down, unbound by ticking clocks and passing hours. Nightmares were mental, and could extend and warp time to suit their needs. Knowing that Pitch had gone through what the fire-user was experiencing now…

"I'm sorry." Ace said sincerely. "You didn't deserve that."

Pitch's eyes widened before they narrowed dangerously.

In a flash realities merged and Ace's wounds from the previous nightmares littered his body, the fire-user letting out a pained scream as his former injuries were inflicted all at once. He nearly lost consciousness but he felt the Nightmare King grab his mind, using his control over dreams to keep Ace in this one.

The Spirit of Fear gripped the Summer Spirit by his throat, dragging him upward and off the floor. As his feet dangled and jerked frantically, Ace registered how much taller the Nightmare King was than him now, looming at about eight feet in height. His hand felt a wolf's jaws was closing around the fire-user's jugular.

" **Don't you pity me!** " Pitch snarled, voice echoing slightly and eyes as black as the darkness he wielded.

"I'm not p-pitying you." Ace choked, hands scrabbling at the Spirit of Fear's as he tried to pry his fingers off his neck. "I'm s-sorry that—"

The Nightmare King slammed him into the cell floor hard enough to crack the stone. The fire-user's mind was overwhelmed by pain, every nerve screaming in agony, and he knew if this was real he would have fallen unconscious. Here, Pitch would not let him fall into the bliss of darkness.

"I know what you're trying to do. Are you so stupid that you think you could manipulate  _me_? I am the Spirit of Fear, the Nightmare King, the Destroyer of Worlds!" The enraged Spirit snarled.

"I'm  _not_  manipulating." Ace  _pleaded_. "I'm sorry. I just meant—"

Pitch grabbed his head with both hands, thumbs pressing frighteningly close to the fire-user's eyes, and the Nightmare King's irises expanded to cover his sclera.

Images flashed before Ace's horrified gaze. Luffy drowning alone in the ocean. Sabo burning alive as he was blown up by a Celestial Dragon. Jack bleeding out after being impaled by hundreds of black spears. Whitebeard dying at Marineford. Marco being torn apart by Fearlings. Thatch blaming him for his death as he stared at Ace with sightless eyes and a bloody hole in his chest.

And then the visions changed, and Ace was dragged into new fears, fears that were not his own.

He was a Spirit, observing helplessly as the humans waged war and slaughtered each other with weapons he could not comprehend. He was a human, watching fearfully as his town was overtaken and transformed into Fearlings. He was a man, unable to protect his family as Marines stormed through the door and shot them. He was a father, crying softly as his terminally-ill baby breathed his last.

He was a hostage, terrified of death as a gun was pressed to his temple. He was a prisoner, head bowed and hands chained as he prayed his captor would not notice him. He was a slave, smiling blankly as he bled in an attempt to keep his master from murdering him.

He was a teenager, fleeing in panic as he was pursued by a pack of hungry wolves, forever unable to go home. He was a child, curled up in a corner and shaking as a shadowy, looming figure stalked towards him with a raised fist. He was a toddler, trembling on a bed as monsters smirked at him from the shadows. He was an infant, cold and alone as he was abandoned by a dumpster.

Ace snapped out of the illusions, blinking tears out of his eyes. Pitch continued to hold him upright by his head, and for a moment the fire-user thought he was going to crush his skull. The Nightmare King unceremoniously released him and Ace slumped to the floor, hands covering his mouth as he resisted the urge to vomit.

"Did you like them?" Pitch whispered silkily, all signs of rage gone. "Those fears? They aren't mine of course, but I can sense them, see them,  _twist_  them in ways you can't even imagine. Fear is evil and savage and cruel, and I  _love_  it. I love what I am, I love what I do, and I  _love_  what I can destroy. Do you still  _pity_  me, boy?"

_I don't pity you. I have compassion for you, Kozmotis. I understand why you fell, and I'm sorry that happened to you. You fought so hard but you failed. You were twisted and corrupted. You lost everything._

… _I don't want to end up like you._

Ace did not have the nerve to speak his thoughts. Instead he looked up at Pitch, deciding it was best to change the subject as he asked a quiet question.

"If I come back, will you let Baby Tooth go?"

It was obvious the Nightmare King still valued him in some way. Why else would he keep appearing in Ace's nightmares and taunting him with his failures? The fire-user could not pinpoint where his idea for an exchange had come from, but he could not bear to leave Baby Tooth with the Spirit of Fear if there was a chance he could get her out.

_The only difference between being with Pitch and being 'free' is I have a minuscule chance of waking up to find my brothers_ , Ace thought tiredly.  _If I can, I should at least try to help Baby Tooth. Otherwise my life is… is…_

Pitch studied him solemnly. Then he smiled like a shark, revealing too many sharp teeth. "You truly are foolish, boy. Do you really think you have  _anything_  to negotiate with? If I wanted you back, I could just waltz over to the Moby Dick and take you.  _No_. I find it more amusing to see you struggle and fall with your family around you, watching helplessly as you spiral down towards your  _death_."

Like a switch being flicked, Ace felt the full brunt of his accumulated wounds strike once more, blood splattering on the stone and body failing as it was overwhelmed. Pitch finally let him pass out from the stress, and when he opened his eyes, he was in the infirmary for more than the thousandth time.

Ace looked hollowly at the ceiling, hysterical gasps threatening to break free of his throat. He swallowed hard and dug his nails into his palms before turning his head to look at the person seated beside his bed.

Marco was there— This time? Again?— reading a book. Or at least, attempting to. One glance at the cover told Ace the novel was upside down, something the Phoenix did not seem to notice as he glowered at it with eyes that were almost completely shut. There were noticeable dark shadows under his normally half-lidded orbs, and Ace wondered what had happened to make the usually unruffled pirate look so ragged. The fire-user suspected it was his fault.

_It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Nightmare after nightmare after nightmare. Why even_ _bother tr— No. Don't give up. I can't give up._

Marco finally realized he was being watched and set down the book he was failing to read, smiling at Ace. Even his grin seemed tired.

"Good. You're awake again." The Phoenix's greeting echoed Bay's, and Ace held back a shudder.

The fire-user sat up robotically and let his gaze drop to his lap.

Marco kept speaking, probably used to his silence by now. "You woke up a few hours ago. Do you remember what we talked about?"

He tried to recall, but the nightmares all blurred together into a jumbled mess he had no hope of deciphering.

_No, I don't._  Ace thought, still looking at the sheets.

There was a small hole in the blanket, and the fire-user poked at it, twisting his forefinger as he prodded the small tear in the cloth. A hand grabbed his forearm and Ace recoiled, trying his best not to rip his limb from Marco's grasp. The touch felt like teeth and claws that stabbed into his skin and bones yet somehow not drawing blood. The Summer Spirit clenched his teeth, forcibly keeping himself from pulling away.

_Maybe if I act okay he'll like me again_ , he rationalized.  _Wait, wait. That was a different nightmare… right?_

To his relief— and shame— Marco saw his tension and released him. Ace pulled his arm protectively to his chest.

"Sorry." The Phoenix apologized. "Bay would be upset if you ruined her precious sheets."

His tone was gentle and teasing, but Ace could not bring himself to smile, the memory of needles stabbing into his flesh plaguing his mind. He was not sure if he was supposed to find it funny anyway. The fire-user moved his hands and clasped them together in his lap, avoiding the Phoenix's calm gaze. Marco was joking, right? Or was he angry that Ace was destroying Bay's property?

_I don't know. I can't tell._

It would not be the first some people berated him with kindness in their voices and genuine smiles on their faces. Something in Ace tried to break again, but he held himself together with the remaining remnants of his will.

_Calm. It's okay. I can do this._

"That's okay. We were discussing your status with the doctors, remember? All of your wounds are healing nicely, even the one on your side." Marco reported calmly. "Your larynx is still strained, so it will be a little longer before you can speak again."

Ace listened distantly as the Phoenix continued to talk, his voice becoming a low buzz in the back of his mind. He looked glanced down at his torso, finally noticing the lack of bandages wrapped around his chest. His abdomen was still covered, including the wound that started all this, but his chest was clear without even a scar to show he had been—

A cold and brutal feeling tried to beckon Ace, but he pushed it away. The fire-user stared past the Phoenix, counting the planks of wood on the floor. His arms reached up to wrap around his stomach, each hand gripping the opposite elbow as the fire-user attempted to gather himself.

_Okay. I'm close to the beginning of a loop. If I pretend to be fine, maybe they'll let me go find my brothers? Or should I try to escape the moment I'm let out of this room? All those other times they tried to stop me from leaving._  He quivered at the memories of knives, bullets, and broken bones. _Why would this nightmare be any different? No, no. This might not be a dream. If it's a dream, trying to locate Jack, Luffy, and Sabo is pointless. I… I… I don't know what I'm doing anymore._

"Ace? Ace!"

The fire-user jumped and saw Marco leaning in front of him. He shuffled backwards a little, shoulders hunching. The Phoenix's eyes darkened and he retreated, looking even more exhausted then before.

_I'm sorry_ , Ace mentally apologized.

"Did you hear me, yoi? You can leave the sick bay today if you want to."

Ace stared at him, not quite comprehending what he meant. Then his mind raced at a thousand miles a minute, caught between bouts of hope and anxiety. He felt as if an anvil had been dropped into his arms, leaving him floundering and unprepared as he struggled to adjust to the heavy load that had been unexpectedly dumped on him.

_I can leave today? Already? But what should I do? Escape or stay for a bit?_

He must not have been as good at hiding his panic as he thought, because Marco spoke hurriedly. "Don't worry about meeting everyone again right now. Oyaji would like to see you, but James and Bay have warned everyone else not to crowd you. They're all just happy to have you back."

Ace stared at him in confusion.  _Meet them again? But I already did. Or was that a different dream? I guess it was? Or is this a test to see if I remember?_

The fire-user closed his eyes wearily, snapping them open just as quickly and glancing at Marco to make sure he had not vanished. The Phoenix was still looking at him expectantly, so hopefully Ace had not drifted off again. He slowly understood the First Division Commander was waiting for a response from him.

_If I stay in bed I'll fall asleep again. I might as well see Oy— Whitebeard and get it over with. I can fake being fine. I can. I'll smile. I'll pretend. Then he won't be disappointed in me. Even if it's a nightmare, I still have a chance to get them to let me stay, right?_

He found that he could not even convince himself.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Marco watched with observant eyes as Ace stared unseeingly at the wall, obviously struggling to come to a decision. The constant fear behind those dull orange orbs was like a stab to the gut every time the Phoenix spotted it, but Marco did his best to hide his dismay. Just like the fire-user was failing to.

It was painful to see Ace clamor to appear disinterested and unaffected by everything around him, but Marco saw his flinches, spotted his trembling, and took in every shifting emotion on the fire-user's face. He did not confront Ace about it, as much as he wanted to, because he had a feeling calling the kid— and he would always be a kid to all of the Commanders no matter how old he got— out about his continuous state of near-panic would only cause him to retreat further.

It was exhausting and stressful to see Ace like this. Every time the kid woke, he did not seem to remember waking before, alternating between trying to escape the sick bay and merely laying on the bed and staring at the people around him like he expected them to chop him into pieces. He was most wary of the doctors and Thatch, much to the medical professionals' understanding irritation and the chef's disheartening misery.

They had decided it would be best not to expose Ace to too many people yet, much to the displeasure of pretty much everyone other than Marco. Out of all of the pirates the kid had woken with, he reacted to Marco the best so the Phoenix was the one who most commonly stayed at the fire-user's bedside. It was not trust, but his reaction to the First Division Commander was the least terrified. Or perhaps he was just pretending to not be scared for some reason.

Marco did not know, and the lack of information and reasons for Ace's behavior were becoming steadily more infuriating.

Ace planted a fragile mask of indifference on his face and nodded his head. He shifted his legs and planted his hands on the bed as he struggled to stand. Marco did not touch him, but hovered at his side.

"We don't have to go to Oyaji right now." He said but Ace ignored him, getting to his feet with the sturdiness of a small flower in high winds.

The fire-user took a step and his legs nearly buckled. Marco saw Ace purposely jerk his body in midair to fall out of the blonde pirate's reach, regaining his footing and evading the Phoenix's gaze. The supposedly-reassuring smile that he planted on his face when he not-quite faced the Commander did not reach his distant eyes.

It was so phony Marco wanted to gather the kid into his arms and hug him, whispering that everything was going to be okay and nothing would ever hurt him again. He did not, stepping closer—  _flinch_ — and holding out his arm.

Ace's façade cracked and for a split second he looked as if the Phoenix was offering him a ball of spikes to grab onto. Then the blank maybe-meant-to-be-reassuring smile returned and he took the arm, visibly shaking. Pure agony flashed across the fire-user's face but it was smothered instantaneously.

The dead grin did not come back, the kid already too exhausted to keep up the front.

Marco  _really_  wanted someone to kill for all of this.

It was slow going, with each shuffle-like step taking a lot out of Ace, but they gradually made their way out of the sickbay and through the halls. The fire-user avoided looking at Marco the entire time, staring at his own bare feet. In hindsight, the Commander should have given the kid shoes, but he had a feeling Ace would not accept them.

The Phoenix talked about random, unimportant things, but the kid did not seem to hear him, his apathetic mask cracking more with every step they took. Their path was thankfully empty, with a majority of the crew performing their various duties elsewhere this time of day. Or maybe Bay and James threatened to inject anyone who loitered outside of the infirmary with all manners of unpleasant substances.

The door to Oyaji's room was closed, and a quick scan with Observation Haki told Marco that his father was awake and with Izo and Haruta. He could hear the low hum of their voices conversing.

The Phoenix paused and glanced at Ace, wondering if he could handle three people. The fire-user noticed his look and tried to mold his face into that awful, hollow grin, but ultimately failed. His skin was almost as pale as a corpse's—  _Don't go there_ — and he shuddered like a leaf in a gale.

Marco bit his lip. "We can come back later. You don't have to…"

He trailed off as Ace furiously shook his head, a glimmer of his old determination lighting in his gaze. It was accompanied by a dim, fearful acceptance that spoke not of a calm acknowledgement of unavoidable happenstances, but of something much darker that the Phoenix highly disliked. Sighing, Marco knocked firmly on the door, raising his voice.

"Oyaji, it's Marco. I brought Ace."

The conversation inside immediately ceased, and the door swung open. Haruta stood there, eyes wide and teary as the Twelfth Division Commander looked upon his long lost brother.

" _Ace!_ " Haruta wailed and tackled the fire-user before Marco could stop him.

If he looked freaked out before, Ace looked absolutely horrified now. He did not fight Haruta as the short Commander sent them both crashing to the ground, but he did not return his hug either, his arms staying limp at his sides. The fire-user's chest heaved and he turned his head to stare at the wall with pupils the size of pinpricks. His mouth moved wordlessly and his eyes glazed over. Marco slowly deciphered Ace's silent words, and felt his heart sink.

" _Don't move. Don't move."_  Ace mouthed repeatedly.  _"Don't move."_

Izo came to his rescue, grabbing Haruta by the back of his shirt and lifting him off of the kid. The Twelfth Division Commander looked ready to protest when he finally spotted Ace's expression. Guilt flashed across his face. Ace did not see it, laying on the ground for a moment before he slowly got to his feet. His gaze flicked from person to person nervously, but he specifically avoided meeting Whitebeard's concerned eyes.

Ace's hands fluttered uncertainly at his sides before he clasped them in front of him, bowing his head. It was then that Marco realized what the fire-user's attitude reminded him of. He was acting like the slaves who smiled constantly so their masters did not kill them. It took more effort than the Phoenix liked to keep his expression from hardening. Based on Ace's prior reactions to such things, he would think the glare was meant for him.

Marco saw Whitebeard's hand clench around the book he was holding as the Yonko also realized the implications of the fire-user's nervous attitude. The giant set the poor novel down before it could become a casualty, looking at his lost son with calming dark eyes.

"Ace. It's been a while, my son."

The fire-user took a jerky step, then two more, inching closer and peering up at the giant with those tired orange orbs. He did not look happy to see the Yonko, instead appearing as if he were patiently waiting for Oyaji to cleave him in two. The kid looked lost and hopeless. His posture was stiff, and he could not decide between looking at Whitebeard's chest or his feet. Ace settled on lowering his head again, hiding his face behind as much of his hair as he could.

He was  _still_  shaking.

Izo made as if to move forward but halted, fingers crumpling his kimono as he gripped it. He eventually settled on crossing his arms over his chest to save his clothes, expression cold. Marco guessed the Commander of the Sixteenth Division was as clueless as him as how to help Ace.

Marco felt another bolt of frustration.

_Just talk to us!_  He wanted to shout at the fire-user.  _We're your family! Just tell us what happened and what's wrong. Let us_ _ **help**_ _…_

Whitebeard leaned forward, large hand looming over his youngest son, and Marco saw Ace's eyes squeeze shut. The fire-user quivered as the Yonko touched his head, as gentle as if the kid were an injured baby bird.

"Welcome back, my son." Whitebeard murmured. "I'm overjoyed that you found your way back to us."

Eyelids slid closed and a shudder went through Ace, vibrating him from head to foot. The moment he opened his eyes again, Marco knew something was deeply wrong.

Once-grey orbs that shone with joy and mischievousness, which had just recently been a faded orange, had now become almost black, only small flecks of flame remaining. Ace's eyes looked like dying embers. They were practically lifeless, the emotion draining from them and leaving behind an apathetic compliance. But why would Oyaji's words cause such a response?

Marco and Izo exchanged a worried glance, the Sixteenth Commander having seen the change as well. Whitebeard let out a sigh that carried all the sadness and grief their father felt, the Yonko not quite succeeding at hiding his own concern.

"Oh, my son. What did they do to you?" he murmured softly.

Ace did not seem to hear him, his sporadic attention abruptly caught by the seastone bracelet around his wrist. It was the third one he had been given, the first two having mysteriously disappeared. Marco had no idea how the kid had gotten out of the other bracelets and watched him closely, desperate for any hint of what was going through his head.

Ace continued to stare at the seastone and fiddled with it in a rather curious manner. A detached anger flashed across his features, and Marco felt his hopes rise. Maybe Ace was not as far gone as he feared. Maybe he was not broken. Maybe he was still fighting. Maybe he was not becoming lost in his mind. Maybe—

Ace burst into flames.

Whitebeard jerked his hand away from his son's head before he could get burned. Haruta gave a startled shout. Izo was forced to hastily retreat so his kimono did not catch on fire. Marco dashed forward, skidding to a halt next to Ace and watching helplessly as the fire-user burned fiercely, almost lost in the inferno. His face remained unnervingly blank as the fire crackled and burned around him.

Before their stunned eyes, the seastone melted, unable to withstand Ace's burst of power. As soon as the liquefied metal slid to the floor, the fire vanished, snuffed out like a candle. The kid tipped his head downward, looking at the puddle on the floor with that same dissonant serenity, then sat down, pulling his knees to his chest.

No one said a word, all too shocked to shatter the quiet that fell over the room.

"What… the hell." Izo croaked, breaking his silence at last.

"There goes your seastone." Haruta muttered, eyebrows raised as he gaped at the puddle. "Ace, how did you  _do_  that?"

The fire-user ignored him.

"Ace? Ace!  _Acccccceeeeee?!_  I'm talking to you.  _Hello?_ " Haruta made a discontented sound as Ace stayed mute. The Commander placed his hands on his hips and scowled. "Are you serious? I heard he wasn't responding to people but this is ridic—"

"Haruta." Whitebeard said in a warning tone.

The Twelfth Division Commander's mouth snapped shut. Marco saw Ace pull his legs tighter to him, forehead pressed firmly against his kneecaps. The kid was listening, he just was not answering. And the Phoenix  _did not know why_. There were so many things he needed to know but he had  _no answers_. It was infuriating, it was stressful, it was nerve-wracking, and if he kept this up, Marco would probably manage to get an ulcer or five despite his regenerative abilities.

Without warning, Izo breathed in sharply, eyes on Ace's back. Marco tensed, stepping closer with the expectation that the kid's wounds had opened again. His fears were quickly shot down.

" _What_   _happened_   _to your tattoo?!_ " Izo demanded, outraged.

A slight flinch was Ace's only response. If it was possible he curled up into a tighter ball.

_Making himself a smaller target?_  Marco wondered darkly, then pushed the thought away.

" _Not_  the time, Izo." The Phoenix snapped back at his brother before he could speak again.

Truthfully, the fact that Ace's mark had been changed to sport a sun behind it was so far down the list of the Phoenix's concerns that he had failed to even consider how others would react to it. A sun was a sign of many different pirate crews, but  _not_  Whitebeard's. To have one behind Oyaji's mark instead of the cross on someone who was one of the Yonko's Commanders could be seen as an insult or division of loyalty by some.

Marco did not give a damn about that, however, feeling an urge to slap his idiotic kimono-inclined brother for bringing it up when it was clear Ace was already having a hard time. The okama blinked, remorse crossing his made-up face, before he cleared his throat.

"I just meant… The coloring is beautiful." Izo mentioned after a moment of consideration. "It's so bold and vibrant. Like a painting."

Ace turned his head a little, peering at the okama from the corner of his eye. A little bit of orange had returned to his irises, much to Marco's relief, but he looked more confused by Izo's approval than happy about it. The Phoenix looked back at the flames that surrounded Oyaji's mark and swore they were moving.

"Do not fret, son." Whitebeard rumbled soothingly. "Your tattoo is not important."

Ace's irises darkened again and he went back to inspecting his knees. Oyaji sighed, rubbing his hand over his face and looking to Marco.

"I believe it might be best for Ace to return for the infirmary for now." He said softly.

"He does look tired." Haruta chirped.

Ace stood up like a puppet whose strings had been ruthlessly pulled. He began walking around the room, steering clear of Whitebeard's bed and the Commanders. The Whitebeard Pirates watched him in bewilderment as he took stiff, wobbly steps along the wall, staring blankly ahead. He paused and rubbed furiously at his eyes before resuming his impromptu stroll.

"…He's broken." Haruta muttered.

Luckily, only Marco heard him. He gave the Twelfth Commander a sharp kick to the shin, shooting him a disapproving glare. Haruta glowered back.

"What? We're all thinking it." He hissed lowly.

"Ace was injured. He was likely imprisoned. He  _just_  woke up. He hasn't had time to deal with anything, Haruta." The Phoenix retorted just as quietly.

"Well maybe if he stopped dismissing us and acting like a crazy person with no explanation—" Haruta began hotly.

He faltered when he was given a stern glare by Whitebeard and another disinterested stare from Ace. The fire-user turned away and continued walking around the perimeter, head down and gaze directed on his bare feet. He still shook like a leaf. Haruta's jaw tightened.

"I'll be back later." The short Commander said coldly.

He stormed out of the room before Marco could stop him. The Phoenix sighed, feeling as if the entire encounter was a disaster. He approached Ace, who halted in the center of the room as if he had run into a brick wall, his gaze locked on the corner of the room opposite the door.

"Come on, Ace." The blonde-haired pirate said wearily. "Let's…"

Finally, an emotion appeared unhindered on the kid's face.

Ace stared at the corner with pure unadulterated terror, stepping away from it with his arms raised protectively in front of his chest and face. The three remaining Whitebeard Pirates followed his gaze, seeing nothing, and Marco's lingering fear and confusion spiked again.

_Hallucinations?_  He wondered.  _Bay said it was likely because of the trauma but—_

The door behind them opened.

"Oi, old man! Benn finally let me break out the sa—  _What the hell?!_ "

Faster than a blink, Shanks rushed into the room, sword out and slashing at the corner. His blade sank into the wall, and the red-haired Yonko spat a curse, backing away as he scanned the area. Seeing nothing, he turned to his shocked audience.

"Sonofabitch got away. Are you all right?"

The Whitebeard Pirates looked at him with bewilderment. Ace looked at him with cautious neutrality, eye color shifting to a glimmering orange hue.

"We're fine. Would you please explain why you are fighting my ship?" Whitebeard asked, slipping seamlessly out of his stunned silence.

Shanks grew incredulous. He gestured at the slashed corner wildly. "You didn't  _see_  him? How the hell…"

Something odd crossed the younger Yonko's face and his visage darkened. His gaze landed on Ace, who stared back, mood switching back to distant, fretful suspicion.

"Kid, does the name Pitch Black mean anything to you?" Shanks asked bluntly.

Ace did not avert his gaze from the Yonko's, recognition and slight terror flashing through his expression. He blinked once, twice, then crumpled to the ground. Marco barely managed to catch the kid as he collapsed, cradling him in his arms.

A small shake did not wake him but his pulse stayed strong, and the Phoenix realized he had fallen asleep again. If it was before this whole mess, back when Ace simply had narcolepsy, Marco may have chuckled. Now all he could do was look at his unconscious brother with fear.

"He's asleep?" Izo asked.

"Yes." Marco confirmed curtly.

He shifted Ace into a more comfortable position in his arms, lifting him up off the ground. The kid dangled limply in his grasp, head slumped against the Phoenix's shoulder. He was icy cold to the touch, and Marco had to watch his chest move in order to believe that Ace was still among the living. The fire-user was so pale…

"I should take him back to the infirmary." The First Division Commander said.

"Not yet." Whitebeard said, shifting so there was room on his bed. "Lay him here."

Marco was about to protest when he saw his Oyaji's eyes roaming the room suspiciously, lingering on the shadowy corners. He did as Whitebeard asked, carefully setting Ace next to his father. The fire-user shifted uncomfortably, curling up into a little ball. He looked positively tiny when compared to the giant. The Yonko covered his son with part of the blanket, and to their relief, Ace relaxed a little, rolling up in the sheet.

"Shanks, please explain what just happened." Whitebeard half-commanded, his attention back on the other Yonko now that it was established Ace still breathed.

Shanks hesitated a moment, eyes on the unconscious fire-user, then let loose a sigh. "I… don't really know. I have my suspicions, but I won't tell you all of them because if I'm wrong, it'll only hurt the kid more."

Red Hair's expression grew hard, and he pierced each of the Whitebeard Pirates with an unyielding glare. "This doesn't leave this room.  _None_  of it, understand? You cannot tell your allies. You cannot tell the Captains. You cannot tell the other Commanders. This stays with us four for now."

"Agreed." Whitebeard said, as eager as his two Commanders to get any information he could.

Shanks retreated to the hallway and retrieved the sake he had been dragging behind him, shutting the door firmly before sitting down before Oyaji. He did not yet offer the drink to his fellow Yonko, and Marco wondered if it was because he felt they would need the alcohol later.

"I guess it's time I tell you about our enemy…" Shanks began.

ROTGOPROTGOP

"No."

"No?"

"Yes."

"Yes!"

" _No_ , North!"

"No?"

" _Are you a five year-old?!_ "

North gave one of his belly laughs, taking in Bunny's irritated expression with open amusement. "Relax, Bunny. You do not need to be so uptight."

The Pooka's eyes narrowed and he jabbed a paw into the Guardian of Wonder's chest. "Uptight? I'm not being 'uptight'. I'm being reasonable. That's a terrible idea and you know it."

North slung his arm around Bunny's shoulders. "Terrible? I think not! We are in a whole new world, Bunny. One where  _anyone_  has potential to see us. Do you not wish to experience it?"

"No, I don't." Bunny said shortly. "Going into town would be a waste of time. We need to find Frostbite, Firecracker, and Pitch."

"And Baby Tooth." Toothiana reminded the Pooka softly, expression pinched with worry.

The Guardian of Hope gave an affirmative grunt.

"That is why we should go see some humans." North said persuasively. "They can see us, and they can see Pitch. That means they may have information we will not find by flying about willy-nilly."

"I agree we need a different plan." Tooth voiced her opinion on the matter. "We do not have our information networks here like we have on Earth. I can't send my Fairies to search, not that it would help. I cannot sense Baby Tooth's location at all." Her feathers ruffled slightly. "I think none of us are connected enough to this world to see what is going on throughout it."

"That's probably a good thing." Bunny muttered pessimistically. "Between Pitch and those Marine wankers, this place is corrupted with a side of horrible."

"The Marines will not be problem unless we anger a Cesspool Dungheap." North said casually.

Bunny stared at him.

Tooth gave an undignified snort before covering it with a cough. "You mean a Celestial Dragon?"

"That's what I said." The Cossack claimed cheerfully.

"With that attitude, we'll have a bounty the moment we step into town." Bunny said dryly.

"We'll be careful. We won't cause trouble, and if trouble finds us, I'm sure we are strong enough to handle it." North cajoled him. "Besides, what are the chances that a Cannibal Dimwit will be in  _this_  little city?"

"Celestial Dragon." Tooth corrected.

"I just said that." North gave a firm nod.

Annoyed emerald orbs met hopeful, mischievous blue, and Bunny groaned aloud. "You're going to keep pestering until we go, aren't you? You're worse than a kid wanting to see Santa!" He realized what he said and slapped a paw to his face.

"Who would  _not_  want to see me?" North asked with a grin.

The Guardian of Hope's eye twitched.

Tooth intervened before a fight could break out. "Do you think we'll stand out?"

She looked down at her feathery body and then glanced at the Pooka, who crossed his arms and scoffed.

"I've seen some pretty odd people on this world. I say we'll fit right in. If someone asks, we'll just claim you and I have those Zoan Fruits or whatever."

Tooth twisted her hands uncertainly, brushing them over her plumage. "Is this how they work though? I can't remember what Manny said…"

"It'll be fine." North boomed, clapping her heartily on the shoulder. "If you have trouble giving answers, bend the truth a little bit. If they continue to ask questions, pretend they did not floss and give them a glare."

Tooth's eyes narrowed.

"Just like that!" The Guardian of Wonder congratulated her. "Good job."

Bunny gave a disgruntled grunt. "Let's just go already. At least we'll be out of that death trap you call transportation for a while…"

They landed outside of a good-sized village. North refused to cover the sleigh with anything to hide it and the Pooka muttered that if it got stolen, then good riddance. It was easy to use Bunny's tunnel to pop up in an alleyway, with the three Guardians watching the humans pass by for a bit from the shadows.

"This place seems nice." Tooth commented, smiling as she watched a child hold her father's hand and skip along with a red balloon.

"Still need to be careful." Bunny grunted. "We're not dealing with kids. We're going to be talking to adults, and they can be a nasty bunch."

North surveyed the passing humans, eyes alight but also thoughtful. "I say we start at the shops and only go to a bar if necessary. We cannot have Santa on Naughty List for being in bar fight, haha!"

Tooth spotted a friendly-looking storefront and pointed at it. "Why don't we start there?"

"Good plan." Bunny grunted. "You do the talking."

The Guardian of Memories raised an eyebrow at him. "Why me?"

The Pooka's ears flattened. "Because North is an idiot and I'm… prickly."

"So you admit it!" North crowed triumphantly.

"Shut yer trap." Bunny snapped.

They made their way across the street, drawing no more attention than the humans going about their business. A man who was most likely the shopkeeper was laying out produce in the front of the store.

"Excuse me?" Tooth said politely.

The man kept stacking fruit, ignoring her completely. The Guardian of Memories bit her lip and glanced at her companions. North shrugged helplessly. Bunny crossed his arms. Tooth sighed and stepped closer to the shopkeeper.

"Excuse m— Whoops."

She bumped into the stand, causing a few pears to fall. Both the Spirit and human caught the fruits before they could hit the ground. Tooth fumbled with the pears a bit before setting them back on the stall. The man stared at the fruit, eyes unfocused, then did a double take, gaze shooting up to meet Tooth's eyes. She heard Bunny gasp aloud behind her.

_He can see me_ , she thought, shocked.  _Just like that, he can_ _ **see**_ _me._

It was one thing to hear about such a phenomenon, another to experience it. Tooth found herself smiling awkwardly at the man, holding back the urge to squeal aloud and glomp him in excitement.

"S-Sorry." The Guardian stammered.

The shopkeeper blinked again, squinting slightly, before his expression cleared. "It's alright. No harm done. Do you need help finding something?"

_Don't hug him. Don't talk about teeth. Act like a normal human adult. No problem._

"Um, no. I just need information, if you'd be willing to give it to me." The Guardian of Memories said.

The shopkeeper rearranged a few of the pears before putting a hand on his hip as he glanced sidelong at the Spirit. "Everything is worth something here, including my time. If you want information, it'll cost you." His rubbed his fingers together in the universal gesture for money.

"I don't have any..." Tooth struggled to remember what the currency for this world was called. "Berries."

The shopkeeper hummed vaguely, gaze drifting over the Guardian of Memories. His eyes rested on one of the sheaths on Tooth's hip, taking in the ornately carved handle that could be spotted jutting out of the plain holder. A hint of what appeared to be glass or diamond peeked over the edge of the sheath.

He grinned. "That dagger looks like it's worth a hefty price."

"That's not for sale." The Guardian of Memories said firmly, shifting the sheath so it was no longer in the man's line of sight.

The man scowled. Tooth heard Bunny growl and North crack his knuckles. The human did not appear to hear them, and Tooth abruptly realized he could not see her companions.

"Then I can't help you." The shopkeeper claimed. "I'm not giving out information and getting nothing in exchange. Go loiter somewhere else."

Tooth opened her mouth, struggling to come up with a rebuttal, but she knew she held nothing of value other than the dagger, and there was no way she was giving that to the man. She exchanged a hopeless glance with Bunny and North, but before they could leave, a voice spoke.

"I may be able to help."

A blonde-haired man in a blue and white uniform sidled up beside Tooth, shooting her an easygoing smile. His hat blatantly identified him as a Marine, making even the ignorant Fairy a little bit wary. She did not remember the whole story, but remembered a Marine had murdered Ace. She decided it was best to err on the side of caution.

The Guardian of Memories glanced past him and spotted three other Marines lingering in the background, shoving each other and grinning in their direction. She wondered what they were so happy about, but dismissed that train of thought as she looked back at the man before her. His expression seemed kind enough, so the Spirit gave him her full attention. His teeth were very white.

"You have a lovely smile." The Tooth Fairy blurted before she could stop herself.

"Thank you." The Marine preened, flashing another pearly grin. "I heard you need information, cutie."

North and Bunny turned to stare at the man, emerald and sapphire eyes identically hard. The Cossack put a hand to his sword, while the Pooka let a paw drift towards his boomerang. Neither Tooth nor the Marine noticed.

"That would be helpful, yes." The Guardian of Memories said, giving the Marine a smile. "I'm looking for someone named Jack Frost. Have you heard of him?"

"Jack Frost?" The man's eyebrows inched upward. "As in 'Winter Spirit' Jackson Overland Frost? Why would a precious little thing like you want to find a dangerous criminal like him?"

At the last sentence, Tooth's confusion over his silky tone was brushed aside and her brow furrowed. "'Dangerous criminal'? What did he do?"

The Marine scowled, leaning back and crossing his arms. "He killed a bunch of Marines and has been kidnapping civilians. No one knows how. People have just been vanishing from towns all over the world."

Something cold settled in Tooth's gut as the Marine spoke, and she struggled to keep her voice steady. "I still need to find him." An idea clicked and words left her mouth before she could process them. "My daughter is missing."

It was not really a lie. Baby Tooth  _was_  missing. Tooth was trying to find her. It just so happened that Pitch might have her instead of Jack.

"I'm sorry to hear that." The Marine's voice was low, but his eyes lit up like he had just found gold. "Still, a pretty girl like you shouldn't try to fight a monster like Frost."

Tooth twitched.  _That's not true._   _Jack could never be a monster._

"Apparently he's a merciless killer—"

Tooth's hand clenched.  _What terrible lies._

"—with eyes as cold as an arctic winter and an empty heart to match—"

_He's one of the most loving and caring people I know. How can you believe he's a criminal?_

"And I heard his teeth are all rotted and black. Guess evil can show on the out—"

Tooth's fist slammed into the Marine's face. "Don't insult his teeth!"

The Marine went down with a bloody nose, drawing the attention of his companions. They rushed forward, drawing guns and weapons, and the civilians in the area fled, screaming in terror. Instinctively, Tooth struck down two more of the Marines with swift punches to the nose, while a boomerang knocked out the remainder.

Bunny caught his weapon. "Time to go."

The Pooka tapped his foot and the Guardians fell into the tunnel, the hole closing and a flower popping up in the street before the bewildered Marines. The three appeared in the forest beside the sleigh, and soon enough they were airborne, leaving the village behind.

The Guardians sat in silence for a moment, and the two males turned to look at Tooth, who stared straight ahead with wide eyes.

"That went well. So… who wants to bet Tooth has a bounty now?" North asked cheerfully.

Tooth put her head in her hands.


	14. Depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dark chapter. Miscommunication. Mistaken(?) for attempted suicide. Not graphic, no blood.

The ocean was beautiful at night. It was beautiful during the day as well, but beneath the moonlight the sea held a different kind of beauty that Jack could appreciate. The Winter Spirit stood at his usual perch on the deck of the Revolutionary's boat, preferring the drowsy outside world to the cramped depths of the vessel.

He had spent many a night sitting outside beneath the moon before becoming a Guardian. He usually talked to Tsar Lunar about what he had done that day or asked questions about his purpose and wondered why the Man in the Moon had left him alone.

But even back then he had loved the night, how the snow shone beneath the moonlight and the sky was filled with luminous stars. In Jack's opinion though, it was out at sea that a clear night sky looked best, the giant orb above having just enough light to reflect on the water. Like the sunlight, the moonlight would dance, swaying and shifting with the waves. Unlike under the light of the sun, however, the moonlight-filled water carried a hint of mystery. The bright whiteness contrasted sharply with the water that looked black, making the reflection seem even more vibrant than its daytime counterpart.

It was quiet and calming, and Jack found himself smiling even though he was surrounded by darkness. This was not a darkness to fear or hate after all, the moon providing just enough light to chase away any worries the shadows may bring.

The Guardian reached up and gripped the skull-like medallion that lay against his chest, feeling the slight weight of Ace's orange cowboy hat against his back. Even now the hat was a reminder of what he lost and what he was trying to find, but the distant hopelessness that his search was futile had been replaced by a low, forceful determination.

Regardless of the circumstances surrounding the information, they now had a way to locate Ace. They were that much closer to finding him. Jack chose to concentrate on the positive instead of the negative, because he was honestly sick of constantly worrying. Something good had finally happened, and as a generally cheerful person it was the Guardian's decision to be happy about it. To focus on the approaching reunion instead of the reason for it. To fixate on one brother instead of the other. To be joyful instead of afraid.

If only his companions could do the same.

Footsteps sounded behind Jack but he did not turn, leaning on the railing as he observed the tranquility of the open ocean.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" the Winter Spirit asked quietly.

"Shouldn't you?" Sabo retorted in a raspy voice.

Jack glanced at him, eyebrows inching up his forehead. The Revolutionary did not look well. His hair was noticeably ruffled, his eyes had dark smudges beneath them, and he looked like a soft breath of wind would knock him over. The Guardian frowned at the blonde man, eyes narrowing in a way rather reminiscent of Bunny.

"I took a nap a couple days ago. I'm good." He looked the Logia up and down. "I'm all for no curfews, but you look like you could use a day of sleep. Or ten."

"Can't sleep." Sabo grunted. "Already tried."

Jack released a puff of air, watching the breath fog the air in front of him. "Let me guess. You're worried about Luffy."

"Why would you  _ever_  think such a thing?" Sabo snarked.

"You and Ace always get twitchy when Luffy is in danger." The Guardian commented. "And since Ace isn't here to be snippy, you're being snippy for him. Aren't you supposed to be the calm one?"

Exhausted blue eyes peered at him. "Can you blame me? Luffy ran into Pitch, found Ace, left him imprisoned, and is now  _going back to Pitch_  to rescue Ace. If I'd had an inkling that Luffy knew where Ace was, I would have just met with him instead of revealing his survival over the Den Den. Now our little brother is running off to  _fight the Nightmare King!_ "

"You had no way to predict…" Jack began, but the Logia ignored him.

Sabo began pacing back and forth, throwing his hands up in the air as he fretted. "Even worse, he isn't answering my Den Den calls, and he isn't calling back. I don't know if the signal has been blocked or if he's just ignoring me. And even if I did talk to him, he wouldn't wait. Did I mention that Luffy is  _walking right into a trap?_ "

"Pitch won't expect them. And we might reach Luffy before he returns to the island." The Guardian soothed optimistically.

"I doubt it." Sabo revealed. He took his brother's vivre card out of his coat, shoving the wiggling paper in the Winter Spirit's face. "The whole time we've been sailing, Luffy has been heading towards us. Unless my brother has had the biggest personality change in the cosmos, he's likely heading towards the mystery island, which is somewhere between our locations. It's probable that he will reach it before we reach him."

The Revolutionary took in a shuddering breath. "He met Pitch before but somehow escaped. Now he's trying his luck again. I don't know how Luffy got out last time, but this time Pitch will be ready for him. Not to mention that he isn't above using Ace as a hostage to stop Luffy from fighting…"

It was unnerving to see the normally calm Fire Logia be so panicked, though it made sense since his dear little brother was in danger. The Winter Spirit himself was surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing. Perhaps he and Sabo had switched roles for the week, with the Guardian providing level-headed support while the technically younger man freaked out. Or maybe it was because they now had a way to find Ace and locate Pitch, so Jack's main source of stress had shrunk to a more manageable size.

Either way, Jack watched as the Revolutionary paced back and forth, back igniting every few steps. Sabo abruptly turned, grabbing the Winter Spirit's shoulders so tightly he could feel the Logia's fingers through his hoodie.

"I'm supposed to protect Luffy. I'm his big brother. But here I am, chasing after him helplessly so he doesn't try to fight a maniac alone. For all we know, we could be half a world away from him. We might not make it in time. What if he gets hurt? What if he gets captured? What if he—?"

"If you're going to panic so loudly, could you please wait until morning?"

Jack and Sabo glanced at Koala, who stumbled out of the door leading below deck. She was dressed for the day, but her hair was mussed beneath her cap and her clothes were slightly rumpled. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes, looking at her partner irritably before transferring her gaze to the Guardian.

"You don't know this because you don't go below deck much, but this idiot has been insufferable since Luffy hung up on him." Koala told him vehemently, as if her circumstances were Jack's fault. "He spends his nights stomping around his room and fretting like a mother hen instead of sleeping." Her glare returned to the blonde Logia. "I thought I'd be able to rest for an hour because you went up here but I can  _still_  hear you."

"Sorry." Sabo said briskly, looking one second away from pulling his hair out. "I tried to sleep but… it didn't go well."

Something in his tone caught Jack's attention. "What do you mean?"

The Revolutionary sighed, pressing a hand over his eyes. "It's just the usual nightmares with a few twists. Though now they usually involve Luffy and Pitch."

The Guardian stilled.

_It's just a coincidence_ , he told himself.  _Don't add unnecessary paranoia to your list of problems. Not all nightmares are caused by Pitch. Of course Sabo would have bad dreams after all the stuff that happened. It's mundane, and normal, and not supernaturally-originated in the slightest._

"I don't like the expression you're wearing." The Revolutionary commented warily. "What's wrong now?"

"Oh, I'm just being a little overly wary." Jack deflected. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." Sabo declined, ignoring Koala's disapproving glower.

The intense stare went to Jack, who raised his hands defensively.  _What did I do? I'm not going to push him for answers. He's your partner!_

The orange-haired woman's eyes flashed dangerously and the Guardian sighed in exasperation.

_Fine._  "When did these nightmares start?"

The blonde Revolutionary said nothing. Koala cuffed him upside the head. The Logia met his partner's dark gaze and decided it was not worth it.

"Shortly after Luffy hung up on me." Sabo grumbled with a sigh. He managed to shoot the two a disarming smile. "It's nothing. Just stress, I'm sure."

"Right." Jack breathed, relaxing slightly.

Koala made an unhappy clicking noise with her tongue, shaking her head. "That's not right. You were fine until we stopped at that little island for more supplies. We didn't get enough for the trip because we got chased out of town, remember?"

Sabo blinked, then frowned. "That's true. How odd."

Jack's paranoia slinked back into the forefront of his mind, and he found himself glancing around at the shadows warily, gripping his staff.

_Crrraaaaaaacccccccckkkkkk!_

The sound of wood splintering reached their ears, ripping through the air like a gunshot. Three heads turned in the direction of the harsh noise, and Sabo gave a soft curse as he dashed to the back of the ship. It took a moment for the humans' eyes to adjust, but Jack could immediately see the problem.

"Damn it!" he shouted, blasting the Nightmare with ice.

The black horse froze and fell into the ocean with a loud splash, but even in the darkness Jack could already see the damage was done. What used to be a rudder was now a mangled mess, the top half of the plank of wood floating away from the ship.

Because of its sandy nature, the Nightmare had only been able to attack the part of the rudder above the water, but the Guardian could see that the creature had succeeded in nearly pulling the entire part off of the boat. As Jack, Sabo, and Koala watched, the remains of the rudder were pulled away by the waves, the metal attachments sinking while the rest lingered on the surface.

Sabo was the one to break the silence. "You have got to be  _kidding me_."

Koala dashed off, calling for Hack, while Jack swooped down to survey the damage more closely. He scowled unhappily at the place where the hinges had once been, relieved that a hole had not been torn in the ship. If the circumstances and participant had been different, the Winter Spirit might have applauded the horse-like creature with no hands for removing the rudder so relatively cleanly.

The Guardian flew up and landed next to Sabo. "I'm no shipwright, but I'm pretty sure we're not going anywhere anytime soon." He informed him grimly.

The Revolutionary clenched smoldering hands. "How long do you think that Nightmare has been following us?"

"How long have you been having nightmares again?" Jack asked darkly.

Sabo put his face in his hands. "I thought we would have noticed if one of those was near us." He moaned. His head snapped up and he looked at the Guardian with horror. "How do they communicate with Pitch?"

"As far as I know? Telepathy. Range probably depends on his strength, and Pitch is pretty strong right now." The Guardian revealed after a moment's consideration.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and it took him a while to identify the reason for his sudden bout of terror. When comprehension formed, Jack met Sabo's equally terrified gaze.

"Pitch just marooned you here intentionally, didn't he?" the Guardian whispered.

"Probably."

"He's been spying on us for weeks."

"Most likely."

"And we were just talking about…"

"Luffy heading back to Pitch's island, yes." Sabo said shakily.

The two older brothers looked at each other with guilt and fear, the realization of what they had done hitting both with the force of a speeding train. In a place they had believed it was safe, they had openly discussed what should have been kept quiet. Through no fault of their own, they had taken their brother's secret mission and hand-delivered it to the enemy, removing one of the very few advantages the pirate had over the Nightmare King.

It was Jack who finally put their failure into words.

"Pitch knows Luffy is coming back."

ROTGOPROTGOP

He had done it. He had finally done it.

Ace stood on a sandy beach, wide eyes caught by two familiar shapes just ahead. Luffy and Sabo were sitting near the water, back to the fire-user as they watched the sun rise above the horizon. His youngest brother had his straw hat placed proudly on his head, while his blonde brother wore the familiar top hat Ace thought he would never see again. The Summer Spirit felt a rush of emotion as he watched them, a smile almost able to come to his lips, and he mutely mouthed their names.

He had found them. He had found two of his brothers.

_I… I did it._

It took him a while, but slowly identified the warm feeling he felt that made him want to laugh, dance, and grin. Happy. He was  _happy_. It was such a foreign emotion to the drained Summer Spirit, but Ace decided he liked it.

The fire-user took a calming breath, then another, refusing to let his fears take hold as he walked slowly towards his brothers. They could hate him. They could reject him. They could despise and hurt and kill him. But it would be okay, because Ace had finally found them. He would finally let them know he was alive, and no matter what they did he would love and protect them.

He would have something to live for again.

A hand clapped over Ace's mouth as an arm wrapped around his waist, pinning his hands to his sides. The hand was suffocating and the arm was knives and claws against his flesh, and the fire-user writhed in pain. Happiness vanished like a torch into an abyss.

Ace panicked, thrashing in his captor's hold, but they kept him contained easily, as if he were as strong as a tiny flower when compared to them. The fire-user tried to scream even though he was physically incapable of crying out, but he was unable to make the slightest sound as he was dragged backwards. He felt warm, sticky blood gather in his mouth due to his futile efforts, the taste of metal coating his tongue.

He was so close. His brothers were  _right there_. He had searched so long, through so many nightmares for them, but he had finally made it. He had finally done the impossible and located Luffy and Sabo.

His fear of losing them again overwhelmed his fear of being hurt by his captors, and he struggled harder, digging his bare heels into the dirt and wiggling with as much force as he could muster. Ace jerked his head back, but his head met the person's chest instead of their nose like he intended.

His captor cursed. "Feisty little bu— Stop— Calm  _down_ , Firecracker!"

The accent was odd but distantly familiar. Ace ceased his escape attempts for a moment, turning his head a little and meeting emerald eyes. Although the bright green orbs were the first feature he noticed, the fire-user gradually noted that the… person holding him was not human. He appeared to be a tall rabbit, towering over Ace by nearly a foot. He was accompanied by a winged humanoid and a large old man, both of whom looked at the Summer Spirit in concern.

The… Guardians?

This was not the first time Ace had 'met' them, but they had never looked so detailed before. Toothiana had pink eyes. North had tattoos on his forearms that spelled 'Naughty' and 'Nice'. Bunnymund had dark patches resembling eyebrows above his emerald eyes. Ace found their appearances to be rather fascinating, used to seeing the Guardians only vaguely or in shadows.

His distraction only lasted a minute before he began trying to escape Bunny's hold again. The Pooka shifted his paws so both arms were wrapped around Ace's chest, keeping the Summer Spirit's arms at his sides.

"Sorry, kid. We don't have time. We need to get back to Earth  _right now_. The portal's gonna close."

Ace finally noticed the odd, shimmering distortion in the air. The portal looked like a mirage or window, with what appeared to be warped buildings on the other side. The fire-user did not care however, straining against Bunny's hold and gesturing frantically at Sabo and Luffy.

_My brothers are right there. I've been looking for them for so long. They're right there! I won't be able to see them again. We'll be separated forever. Just let me say goodbye at least…_

The Guardians did not understand. It was almost like they could not see the humans that were so important to Ace. The humans he would never be able to see again.

"We need to leave. Now." Bunny said urgently.

Ace shook his head violently, throwing his body around in an attempt to break free. The Guardian of Hope refused to release him, dragging the Summer Spirit backwards and away from his brothers. Why were they doing this? Why couldn't he say goodbye? Where was Jack? He would understand. He would stop them. He would reason with them.

_I just need to say goodbye._   _Please, let me say goodbye_ , Ace begged silently.

The Guardians did not hear him, ignoring his struggles as they pulled him towards the portal. The Summer Spirit jerked in their holds, reaching for his brothers, but they were too far away.

_Let me say goodbye. I need to say goodbye. Please, just let me say good—_

The ground crumbled away beneath his feet, and Ace fell. He plunged into the darkness, looking up in time to see Sabo hold Luffy back as his little brother reached for the fire-user and desperately screamed his name and—

Ace did not know where he was.

He sat up, glancing around frantically at the unfamiliar room he had woken in. It appeared to be a type of office. He lay on a type of couch, with a chair and low table placed neatly beside him. The chair was occupied by Bay, who brushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

"Are you alright, Ace? You fell asleep during our session. Do you remember that?" she asked.

Ace searched his 'memories' and discovered that he most definitely did not. The fire-user reluctantly nodded for the first question and shook his head for the second.

"That's okay." The doctor said gently. "We were talking about what happened to you."

He did not recall. A suspicion settled in his mind, but it was snuffed out when he spotted a notebook and pen on the table. Apparently that was how he had communicated with Bay. Ace had no memory of any of it, but his recollection skills were far beyond unreliable at this point.

"Shall we continue or do you want to start over? Either is perfectly fine." Bay encouraged.

Ace faltered, then wrote  _Continue_  on the pad. He did not want to waste the doctor's time any more than he already had.

"Okay then." Bay said. "We were talking about personality traits. You were afraid the sand was making you lose all the good things about you, and that it was taking away what made you 'you'."

Ace looked down at the notebook he held, unnerved by the doctor's astute analysis about his fears. Though, if she had been tasked with trying to help him, maybe he had already opened up to her?

"I know I've said it before, but I won't judge you. And everything you say will stay just between us." Bay said firmly, likely spotting his nerves.

The fire-user swallowed and nodded, not quite able to summon a smile. The doctor notice his efforts and gave him an encouraging grin in return.

" Excellent. Now, write down all of your positive traits. Go on. You can do it." She urged.

Ace stared at the paper blankly. It took a long time for him to think of anything at all. Memories and nightmares jumbled together, making him uncertain of who he was and used to be. He eventually focused on interactions with his brothers and Jack to look for good mannerisms of his.

_Brave. Polite. Determined. Intelligent. Protective._

There were more. There had to be more. But Ace could not think of them, his struggling mind unable to look within himself and see something good. Still, he felt some pride that he could muster up five things, and gave the paper to Bay with a small, hopeful smile. She nodded slowly, then abruptly shook her head.

"This is all wrong. If you're determined, why did you give up at Marineford? If you're brave, why didn't you go tell Luffy you were alive? If you're polite, why do you keep ignoring people like an entitled asshole? If you're protective, why did you abandon your brothers? If you're intelligent, why did you turn back to face Akainu?" Bay looked into his eyes, expression stern. "Stop lying to yourself, Ace. You are none of those things."

Ace felt cold.

Bay smiled sweetly. "Now, tell me what you  _really_  are."

The bad came so much easier than the good, words flowing onto the page within seconds. Ace felt his eyes begin to sting but he did not let the tears fall.

_Selfish. Stubborn. Hot-blooded. Stupid. Impulsive. Violent._

Bay took the paper and studied it before scoffing and shaking her head in disapproval. "You're missing a few. Think really hard about it."

More negative traits came easily to him. Ace's hand shook as he wrote.

_Worthless. Useless. Ungrateful. Weak. Pathetic. Unworthy. Broken._

He blinked and saw water droplets fall onto the page. He wrote a final, sloppy word.  _Crybaby._

Bay nodded in agreement. "That's more like it. You need to be honest with yourself, Ace. That's the first step. Now, let's talk about what you let happen to you, shall we?"

The fire-user looked at her in confusion, attention caught by one word.  _Let?_  He wrote.

The doctor sighed, rubbing a hand over her face in frustration. "Don't deny it. You were a Commander. You are a Nature Spirit. You were strong. Pitch could not have captured and infected you unless you let him. You  _allowed_  this to happen to you, Ace. It's your fault. I want you to understand that."

Ace could barely see the paper anymore. His writing was jagged and wobbly as his hand shook.  _Why?_

"Because I need you to hate yourself and what you've become so that you can turn into something new." Bay said kindly. "As you are now, you're just a burden and you're not going to get better. All you're doing is dragging other people down with you. Why are you inconveniencing them with your problems?"

_I'm sorry_ , Ace wrote shakily.  _I'll try to do better._

"Good." She approved. "That's why we're here. Now, let's talk about your brothers, shall we?"

He was writing before he registered that he had put the pen to the page.  _They love me._

"Perhaps." Bay said in a tone that suggested she did not believe it. "But you don't want to hurt them, do you? If you go back to them, you'll just have to leave again. You'll have to abandon them just like you did when you died, causing them grief and pain all over again. Not to mention that since you're so broken, they'll waste time worrying about you when they should be following their dreams. You'll just hold them back. Isn't that selfish of you?"

Ace could feel something breaking. Like a sand castle facing a tsunami, pieces crumbled away, unable to withstand the forces that sought to tear the foundation apart. Her words repeated in his head, over and over again, chiseling away at his carefully maintained perseverance and leaving widening cracks behind.

The fire-user tried to hold himself together by thinking of his brothers, but the accompanying thought of his presence hurting them made the waves rise higher and he found he could not stay afloat anymore.

_I… can't do this_ , he realized _. I can't do this anymore._

He tried counting nightmares. He tried spotting discrepancies in the world around him, relying on things he knew without a doubt to be true as reference. He tried bringing up former conversations to see if other people remembered them. He tried drawing images on his arm to identify where he was waking up. He tried acting normal or apathetic in order to stop his fears from being triggered.

It did not work. None of it helped him determine which world was the real one. It was like looking for a silver needle in a pile of shiny grey ones. Every wrong move resulted in pain and misery. Again and again and again.

A sharp tap on his head made Ace flinch.

"I said,  _isn't that selfish?"_  Bay growled.

Ace did not respond. Something numb and empty washed through him, overtaking the fear and sadness and leaving nothing behind. He lay down on the couch, turning so his back was to the doctor, and tuned out her angry demands for an answer. Eventually she got fed up and struck his head, knocking him out or possibly killing him.

In the next nightmare, Luffy died.

Sabo died.

Jack died.

Ace was left alone.

In the world after that, he was abandoned by the Whitebeard Pirates again.

His brothers were killed before he could find them.

The next set of visions ended with him in a lab, taken apart by the World Government to see if they could copy or harness his powers.

It took years, but he bled out eventually.

Another dream where the Guardians shunned him.

Another dream where his crew hated him.

Another dream where Luffy and Sabo blamed him.

Life after life after life.

Death after death after death.

Nightmare after nightmare after nightmare.

" _What the hell are you doing? Idiot!"_

" _You ruin everything!"_

" _You were trying to 'help'? You call that_ _ **'help'?**_ _You can't do anything right!"_

" _You're useless."_

" _I can't believe how weak you've become."_

" _You're a disgrace."_

" _You're not my friend."_

" _You're not my son."_

" _You're not my brother."_

" _We never wanted you."_

" _Why would anyone love you?"_

" _I hate you."_

" _I wish you'd never been born."_

" _Pathetic."_

" _Arrogant prick."_

" _You're a monster."_

" _Pig-headed fool."_

" _Stubborn ass."_

" _Reckless idiot."_

" _Demon!"_

" _What the_ _ **hell**_ _was that? He almost died because of you!"_

" _If you weren't so incompetent, this wouldn't have happened."_

" _If you want to die so badly, how about you go and off yourself already? Save us the trouble."_

" _Get out. You're not welcome here."_

" _Are you crying_ _ **again**_ _? Why are you such a baby?"_

" _Yeah, just keep feeling bad for yourself. That will fix_ _ **everything**_ _."_

" _You're so selfish. You think you're the only one suffering? What about what you put_ _ **us**_ _through, huh? First you abandon us, then you come crawling back, and now we have to deal with you and your_ _ **issues**_ _."_

" _It wasn't that bad, drama queen."_

" _You're overreacting."_

" _Get over it already!"_

" _You're so broken."_

" _We don't need you."_

" _What happened to you was entirely your fault."_

" _Why were you so stupid, Ace? It's your fault that you died."_

" _You deserved it."_

" _You never should have come back."_

The cycle repeated.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Ace woke in the infirmary.

The fire-user did not cry. He did not punch the wall or rage at the heavens. He did not try to get up. He did not even move. Ace merely stared at the ceiling apathetically with eyes that could barely see it, a strange cloudiness dulling his senses. He physically felt no different than he had not so long ago, but at the same time something was missing.

_It doesn't matter. None of it matters._

He wondered if he should be crying. It seemed like he always cried these days, so why wasn't he now? This empty, cold, numb feeling had to be despair, right? So why wasn't he reacting?

_I… should try to find my brothers._

The thought was formed more out of habit than out of a desire to see them again. Ace blinked rapidly, but his eyes remained dry.

_No I shouldn't,_ he admitted _. If I show myself to them, I'll only cause them more pain. Even if I find them, I'll have to leave again. Either to Earth or through death. Probably through death._

There was still no urge to cry. He just felt tired of it all. Tired and cold.

_I guess I really am broken._

His eyes did not even sting.

Ace turned off the machines that tracked his heartbeat before methodically detaching the wires from his body. He had done it enough times to know how to remove the devices without triggering them, thus causing the doctors to be alerted that he was awake. He did not want to face Bay or James or anyone else. They would just pretend to worry for a while or throw away all pretenses and hurt him, like they always did.

_I'd deserve it._

The fire-user got to his feet and exited the room. He did not exactly walk, instead drifting through the lower deck of the Moby Dick like a ghost, wandering through the halls without a destination in mind. The crew members he passed did not acknowledge him, but the fire-user could not summon the ability to feel sad about it. He was not worth their time or attention. Instead he carefully inched around the Whitebeard Pirates so as not to disturb them, heading up to the deck.

It was dawn. The bright yellow sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky a mixture of blues, pinks and purples. The ocean looked like it was made of gold in the light, the waves causing the sunlight to reflect off the water and make it shimmer and sparkle.

Sunken eyes stared out at sea, unable to take in the beauty of the morning. Ace leaned against the railing, looking down into the ocean. If he weren't so broken, he might have marveled at how detailed the nightmares always made the worlds he found himself in. Now all he could do was sink into his spiraling thoughts and wonder why he bothered anymore.

_It's all nightmares. Every time I wake up._ _I can 'live' or 'love' or 'search' or 'die', but it's all just in my head._ _I can't escape. I can't endure. I can't be fixed._ _None of it matters. None of it._

Ace stared down at the sea, wild and mysterious, then tipped his head upward and looked at the sky. What was stopping him from just flying away in this dream? What was preventing him from abandoning the things and people that always ended up hurting him? Very few things could reach the sky, so maybe if he flew he would not be hurt again, and he would not have to inconvenience anyone with his issues.

Before Ace comprehended what he was doing, he was on the railing. He balanced easily on the wood, both his natural equilibrium and instinctive light-footedness letting him casually perch on the crossbeams. The waves bounced the ship gently beneath his feet but he remained firm and unbothered by the movement. The fire-user tilted his head towards the sky and lifted his arms, closing his eyes and letting the wind brush over his face, rustling his hair.

He supposed he could lift off directly from the deck, but instead found it darkly amusing to put his life in the unreliable hands of chance. After all, Ace's powers might not work in this dream. He could fly into the heavens, or he could fall into the sea and drown. It was inconsequential either way. Plus there was the fact that Whitebeard Pirates tended to grab him if he tried to fly away while in their reach…

_I don't have to find Jack, Luffy, and Sabo_ , he thought morosely _. They don't need me. I don't have to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates. They don't need me. I don't have to meet the Guardians. They don't need me. I'm just a problem, a mess, a… burden. They're all better off without me. I'll just leave on my own this time._

" _Oh_."

The exclamation came from behind him, gasped in a low, panicked voice. Ace merely turned his head, too numb to worry about being attacked anymore. Thatch stood a few feet from him, open terror on his face, and the fire-user idly wondered if the chef was afraid of him. He decided it did not matter.

"Ace. Ace, b-buddy." Thatch stammered. "Hi. Um, you want to get off of there?"

Ace ignored him, turning back to the sea as he balanced precariously on the railing. The fire-user thought he spotted brightly-colored fish below the waves and watched them swim out of sight with a muted curiosity. He heard the chef's breathing quicken.

"D-Did you know I just got a shipment of chocolate in? I know you love it. Want to come have some? We'll have to e-eat it before  _MARCO!_  finds out." Thatch shouted the Phoenix's name, a terrified strain in his voice. " _MARCO!_ "

The chef stepped forward, halting immediately when Ace tensed. The fire-user closed his eyes and bowed his head, weary beyond words.

_Why am I even scared anymore? It doesn't matter. I'm in a nightmare. I'll likely die again anyway._

… _I never should have been reborn in the first place._

Ace supposed he should be argumentative, grieving, defiant, sad, determined, or scared right now. All he felt was numb. He sought the sky, tipping his chin up and staring up at the endless expanse of blue. If he could just reach it… he would be free.

Thatch moved, catching the wary fire-user's attention, but the chef merely raised his hands at chest level, his arms outstretched. He was shaking. That was strange. Usually Ace was the one who was always apprehensive and trembling. Was he right before? Was this a nightmare where the chef was afraid of him? That was a pretty unique one, comparatively.

"Ace, please come down." Thatch's voice cracked. "I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but we can help you. Please, let us help you. Just— Just get back on the ship."

Ace's bare toes curled around the edge of the railing, and he slowly comprehended why the chef was acting so frightened.

_He thinks I'm going to jump_ , the fire-user realized, surprised.  _I mean, I was, but I can fly— maybe— so it's fine. And even if I fell, it doesn't matter. I would just die. I always die._

The sound of a sob caught his attention, and he when he looked back the chef was crying. Tears raced down Thatch's cheeks as small cries broke out him, his body lurching slightly with each jagged breath. The Commander's knees wobbled before he fell to the deck, hand clapped his chest while the other still reached pleadingly towards Ace.

"I'm sorry you almost died because of me." The man babbled. "I'm sorry you were captured, and tortured, and who knows what else because of me. I'm sorry this happened to you. But please,  _don't do this_. You're my friend, my brother. You're strong and brave and resilient, and I know you can beat this. I know you can live. So  _please_ …"

Ace watched the man break down, and felt something stir in his chest. This picture was very, very wrong. Thatch was a cheerful person. He should not cry, especially not because of the fire-user.

The Summer Spirit found himself stepping back onto the deck and inching over to Thatch. The chef stilled as he approached, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Ace knelt in from of him but did not touch him, merely staring silently. He reached out, placing his hand on Thatch's arm just for a second—  _knives glass pain_ — before withdrawing.

The Fourth Division Commander's arms lifted like he wanted to encase Ace in them, but he resisted the instinctive urge to hug the twitchy fire-user. Instead Thatch lowered his arms and shot him a tremulous smile that managed to be sunny and bright.

"Okay. We're okay. You're okay." He rambled, taking in a shuddering breath.

Ace decided he did not like that word much anymore.

Purple caught Ace's eye and he peered at Marco, who was standing in the center of the deck. The Phoenix looked like decades had been stripped from his life, his eyes round and his skin ashen. Namur stood beside him, gripping the First Division Commander's arm tightly. The Fishman looked as horrified as the blonde pirate. He released the Phoenix and Marco rushed to Ace and Thatch's sides, sitting beside them.

"Are you all right, yoi?" he asked urgently.

He sounded scared, too. Ace should apologize. He didn't want the Whitebeard Commanders to be scared. Fear gave Pitch power.

_But this is a nightmare, remember? Nothing matters._

… _So why did I come to Not-Thatch?_

Ace did not know. He did not understand. He did not care.

"We're fine. We're okay." Not-Thatch said that awful word again. He wiped at his eyes and looked welcomingly at Ace. "I was serious about that chocolate shipment. Bay might get grumpy because you haven't really eaten anything substantial in a while, but I swear chocolate makes everything better.

He looked so hopeful, but Ace could not find the energy to respond.

Did Not-Thatch think things were better? They would never be better. It would never end.

This little incident did not change anything. The fire-user was just going through the motions again. He knew the patterns, he recognized the hints, he predicted the outcome. Only this time… he knew there was no escape.

And that he did not deserve one.

Ace wished he could cry.

Not far from the Moby Dick, dark clouds formed in the sky.

ROTGOPROTGOP

It had been seventeen days since Ace woke for the first time, and Marco felt no closer to figuring out how to help the fire-user. After the scare this morning, the Phoenix was more terrified than ever about the state of the kid's mind. Thatch refused to leave Ace's side, forsaking his duties for the day and leaving them to the cooks under his command. Marco let it slide, because he himself wanted to do exactly the same thing.

He had panicked when he went to Ace's room only to find it empty, immediately dashing through the ship to find the kid and dismissing the concerns of other Whitebeard Pirates so as not to cause a stampede of searching pirates. When he had seen Ace on the railing, his heart nearly stopped. Namur— who had been with him when they heard Thatch shout the Phoenix's name— had grabbed his arm to prevent him from lunging for the kid.

"If you run at him, he might jump or fall." The Fishman had hissed lowly.

Marco had been unable to speak, only able to observe fearfully as Thatch tried to talk Ace down. When the chef had begun crying, his paralysis had almost faded, but in hindsight he was glad he had not approached. Ace had gotten off the railing by himself and gone to his friend's side to comfort him, mostly-willingly initiating contact for the first time since he woke up. If he hadn't come back to the deck, or if Thatch had not stumbled upon him by accident…

_Don't think about it._

Instead Marco felt his mind wander back to the conversation with Shanks they had almost a week ago and a frown pulled at his lips.

" _I guess it's time I tell you about our enemy." Shanks said. He brushed his hand through his hair, the red locks becoming slightly ruffled because of the action. "All right then. Like I said, I won't tell you everything, or how I came to get this information. I've sworn not to, and seeing as how you're confused right now, my Captain did not tell you about this. I technically should not either…"_

_His gaze flicked to the sleeping Ace. "…but I think Roger would understand. What you need to know is about a… man named Pitch Black. He is known as the Nightmare King and the Spirit of Fear, and he's— for lack of a better term— a complete monster."_

_Izo and Marco exchanged a glance at the red-haired Yonko's harsh words._

_Shanks smirked almost bitterly. "I'm not exaggerating. He's killed more people than you can comprehend. You know those black creatures that have been popping up all over the world? The 'black horses' and 'shadow demons' the newspapers claim do not exist? They're his creations— his Nightmares and Fearlings— and they were made with the dreams and souls of the people who disappeared."_

" _I'm telling you all this because Pitch Black was standing in the corner of this room when I walked in. One of his powers is invisibility, though it has a catch. You have to… know he exists in order to see him. That's why you didn't see him earlier, though now I think you'll be able to. You couldn't see him, but Ace_ _ **did**_ _."_

_Marco slowly began to put pieces together, and his stomach lurched uncomfortably. His gaze snapped to the shadowy parts of the room, and the Phoenix inside him tingled in warning even though there was currently no threat. Shanks poured four cups of sake, handing them out almost as an afterthought. The blonde pirate did not touch his. Oyaji took a swig. Izo downed his drink in a single gulp. Red Hair smirked humorlessly and poured him another cup._

" _I wasn't sure before, but I'm certain now that Pitch was the one who kept Ace captive." Shanks revealed. "Those markings on the kid? They're from Pitch. His methods appear to be slightly different than what I was warned about, but I've seen the end result before and it's the same. I think Pitch may have been trying to turn Ace into a Fearling, but for some reason the kid is immune. So instead of turning Ace, the sand is likely forcing him into nightmares filled with his greatest fears. Over and over, every time he's asleep, until he could no longer differentiate between dreams and reality."_

_They all looked at the unconscious fire-user, who twitched and shifted in his sleep, expression pained. Marco stood up, but Shanks put a hand on his arm, stopping him from going to the kid._

" _Shaking him won't work. If it's anything like the dr—… other sand I heard of, the black sand is designed to keep its victim asleep."_

" _What do we do then?" Whitebeard asked sharply. "How do we help my son?"_

" _You can't." Shanks said quietly. "As long as the sand is in Ace, he'll continue to have nightmares. Eventually… he'll likely die. Once the sand reaches his heart, it's over. All you can do is be there for him when he is awake and try to support him. If he keeps fighting, the sand won't beat him… but he can't just expel it either. It isn't going to magically go away, so you'll have to be there to try to keep his head above water. I'm sorry."_

They had asked a few more questions and voiced protests— Was he certain the sand had no cure? Did he have an idea of where Pitch was and if the bastard could remove it? Was there a way to prevent the sand from infecting someone?— but the conversation ended shortly after that.

Shanks had warned the Whitebeard Pirates not to be too direct or to bring up Pitch with Ace, because that would only reinforce the kid's belief that he was in a nightmare. As far as the fire-user knew, it was impossible for the two Commanders and Yonko to know about Pitch, and he would likely panic, believing they were allies in the 'dream'. Marco, Izo, and Whitebeard had agreed to be subtle in their attempts to convince Ace this was reality.

The Red Hair Pirates had left shortly after that, with promises to return to the Moby Dick in a few weeks. James had reluctantly gone with them, unwilling to leave his patient but also unable to trust his idiot of a Captain to not get injured while he was away. Apparently they had received word of 'something important' that Shanks refused to disclose. The only hint the Whitebeard Pirates received was that it involved 'friends of an old friend'.

The red-haired Yonko swore he would tell Whitebeard if he received any intelligence about Pitch and his location before sailing off. Marco just wished he would be less cryptic, though he understood his silence and half-answers were due to the promise made to his deceased Captain, so he let it slide. For now.

One thing was for certain. Ace was in a dangerous mental state, worse than the doctors had predicted. And Marco could only be there, support him, and try to catch him when he fell.

The kid was still out on the deck under Thatch's watchful eye after rejecting the chef's offer of chocolate. None of the pirates had the heart to force him back to the infirmary when they saw how he looked at the sun.

The way those ember-colored eyes lingered on the sky and yellow star made Marco's already strained heart want to break. Ace looked so fragile beneath the open expanse of blue, like he could barely believe that he was seeing it. It had only taken a whispered suggestion from Vista about the possibility that the kid had not seen the sky in years to make Bay back off and let him stay outside.

Everyone watched him though. Subtly, of course.

But naturally, the peace could not last long.

The Whitebeard Pirates— the proud, savvy, veteran pirate crew of the World's Strongest Man— were caught completely off guard.

The darkness swept over the ocean without warning, the sky turning from day to a false night in a matter of minutes. The thunderstorm did not meander to the Moby Dick, it  _pounced_  on it, appearing out of nowhere like an enemy's ambush.

The wind did not howl, it  _screamed_ , shrieking with the outrage of a mindless, wounded beast as it took out its anger on the ship. The sea was just as unforgiving, waves the size of mountains rising up and beating against the Moby Deck, eager to pull the vessel into the depths. The rain pelted down with the strength of Haki-imbued punches, knocking more than one pirate off their feet as they stumbled across the rocking deck.

Marco braced himself as the ship tilted, riding up along a wave before crashing down jarringly. He saw Izo lunge for one of their less sturdy brothers as he slipped, barely able to keep the man from falling overboard. Namur was forced to dive over the railing after another less lucky crewmate was sent soaring into the sea with a scream that was lost among the concussion of thunder and wailing winds.

The Fishman popped up above the raging ocean mere seconds after his decent with the man held securely in his arms. Vista threw them a rope, feet planted to keep himself from being bowled over, and with the help of a few others they pulled the two back onto the ship. Another crew mate immediately took the shivering, near-drowned man to Bay.

A bolt of lightning struck the sea so close to the ship the Phoenix felt the charge in the air, the hair on his arms rising. A second, third and fourth strike split the sky all at once, the air ripping apart with an ominous crack. Marco prayed the mast would not be hit.

The First Division Commander tried shouting orders, but his voice was lost to the shrieking winds, the raging gale determined to keep his commands muffled. Luckily, the Whitebeard Pirates were not ignorant rookies, and each man did what he was meant to without being asked. Crew members ran left and right, pinning down free-falling items and assisting their brothers as an electricity-filled ocean descended from the heavens.

The Phoenix dashed water from his eyes and went to help a struggling Curiel tie down a loose rope. He barely made it a step before the wind struck him, smashing into Marco like a thousand blows and sending him sprawling.

He crashed into Thatch, who steadied the Phoenix as best he could, the wind and rain hammering against them both. Marco could not be surprised it the chef and his other brothers woke with bruises lining their skin. Flashes of lightning revealed Thatch's well-maintained pompadour was now a drooping mess, locks of hair sticking to his forehead.

The chef said something, gesturing animatedly, but his words were lost to the gale. Booms of thunder drowned the sound out even more, the ship trembling with every lightning strike. Haruta managed to help Curiel with the rope, and the two Commanders staggered off to assist their other brothers. Another wave lifted the Moby Dick, and many pirates gave startled shouts as the ship went up almost ninety degrees. It slammed back into a horizontal position, sending many pirates sprawling.

Marco winced when he saw an unlucky Fossa bounce his head off the deck, the dazed Commander being grabbed by Namur before he could slide into the sea. Thatch clung to Marco, bellowing urgently, and the Phoenix finally noticed that Ace was not with the chef. He scanned the deck, heart freezing as he spotted the only person who stood firm against the storm.

Ace gazed up at the flashing sky, unbothered by the forceful winds and torrential rain. As the Whitebeard Pirates scurried and shrieked around him, the fire-user was still and silent, looking calmer than he had since he had returned to them. As lightning flashed, rain poured, and people panicked around him, Ace was as solid and unmoved as a mountain, almost otherworldly as the bursts of light illuminated the black marks covering his skin.

His eyes lowered to meet Marco's, the orange irises almost glowing in the darkness, and a ghost of a smile flitted across his features. Then his head snapped to the side, staring out at the thrashing ocean past the Phoenix, and his grin faded into a peaceful expression. Seconds later, a new shadow fell over the Moby Dick. Marco turned to look behind him, horrified to spot the 700 foot wave bearing down on the ship.

" _Brace yourselves!_ " he bellowed.

The pirates clung to whatever sturdy structure was within reach. They all looked at the incoming wave with uneasiness, determination, or fear. All except Ace. The fire-user did not move from the center of the deck, watching the wave approach with that same serene expression.

Marco moved before logic could stop him, releasing his anchor and dashing for the kid. Ace saw him approach, and finally an emotion flickered through his detached gaze. Fear. The fire-user reached for the Phoenix as the blonde man did the same to him, the wave bearing down on them both with a promise of death. The First Division Commander tried to turn their bodies, to shield Ace's with his own, but the kid refused to move, sturdy as a stone.

It all happened too fast for Marco to react.

One second, Ace clung to Marco, as if he were trying to cover every part of the larger man he could. The next the kid  _exploded_ , fire shooting out protectively like a sphere that closed around them both. And then the wall of rushing water was upon them. The storm grew muffled under the sounds of the crackling flames, everything turning from a dark grey to brilliant swirl of orange and blue. Marco barely had time to register the heat before the sphere vanished, his burns healing instantly thanks to his Devil Fruit.

The Phoenix realized he was  _entirely dry_  for all of a second until the rain drenched him to the bone again. He and Ace were in the same position in the center of the deck, with a circle of scorched wood around them.

Everyone else had been thrown to the deck or were hanging off the railing. Those that could rushed to assist their flailing comrades, some shouting for help, but Marco could only stare at Ace in wonder.

Because after days of apathy, fear, and indifference, he had just stopped Marco from being doused by and potentially pushed into the sea. Because he had forsaken all previous uncaring habits and intentionally protected the Phoenix. Because he had just used  _fire_  to block  _water_. Such a thing should be impossible, and yet the kid had managed it.

The kid that looked  _almost happy_  to see that the Phoenix was all right, his orange eyes shining with  _concern_.

For the first time since Ace was returned to them, Marco felt that the kid might actually be all right.

Before Marco could speak, Haruta stormed up to them both, expression as ominous as the dark clouds above. He grabbed Ace by the head and pulled him down to his eyelevel, ignoring the fire-user's winces.

"What the  _hell_  was that?" The Twelfth Division Commander shouted, giving Ace a rough shake. "You fucking  _moron_! Marco could have died because of you!"

Orange eyes darkened to flecked black and something dead and horrifying entered the fire-user's gaze. Marco did not have time to rebuke Haruta before Ace shoved the Twelfth Division Commander, bolting away from them both. It took too long for Marco to realize that the kid was not heading below deck, but towards the side of the ship.

The pirates closest to Ace lunged for the fire-user, but the wind buffeted them away, keeping him out of reach of their desperately grasping hands. The Phoenix could only scream as Ace leapt over the railing… and soared into the sky.

Maco was airborne before he fully registered that  _Ace was flying_ , the blue phoenix following the orange flames the kid left in his wake as he fled through the clouds. He heard muffled shouts behind him but did not turn, fighting against the wind as he followed his youngest brother. There was not any time.

The Phoenix knew that if he did not go after Ace, they would lose him. To the sand, to Pitch, to the Marines, or even to the expanse of the world. Marco sent a mental apology to Oyaji and the others as he fluttered and soared, raging against nature, desperate to keep Ace in sight.

The fire-user and the Phoenix vanished in the storm.

ROTGOPROTGOP

At first, Ace felt free.

With nothing but the open sky around him, the clouds below and the sun above, the fire-user felt almost-content. The Summer Spirit soared through the atmosphere, away from the storm and the Whitebeard Pirates and the fears that tried to drown him. It felt wonderful, just being by himself without pitying eyes watching him and without having to pretend to be whole.

The fire-user was too tired to swoop and perform tricks like he once might have, but he flew steadily and almost-smiled as he looked down at the sea of clouds, oddly at peace. Ace had been right about the sky. Here, no one could hurt him. Here, no one could touch him. Here, he was unbound, not a prisoner, and free.

It took Ace an hour to realize he was running away.

The understanding of his cowardly choice struck the fire-user like a blow, and suddenly the flames keeping him aloft could no longer be maintained. The Summer Spirit plummeted, the world rushing by in a blur. And yet at the same time, everything seemed to move slower, the ocean below frozen in time as he fell towards it.

He should be scared. He wasn't. Ace wondered if it was because he was still unafraid of death, or if he wanted it. The latter thought did not even disturb him anymore.

A tan splotch formed in front of him, and the fire-user noted he was falling towards an island, not into the ocean. He briefly considered trying to alter his plummet so he could dive into the waves, but decided it did not matter.

Nothing mattered anymore.

The island filled his vision, and at the last second Ace instinctively twisted, trying to make it so he would fall feet first. He did not quite succeed, his body turning so he was in a strange diagonal position. He hit the ground hard, bones jarring unnaturally as he slammed into the earth. His skeleton strained and groaned but somehow did not break.

Ace did not simply stop, instead rolling and skidding on the sand, parts of his skin scraping and tearing as he slid across the beach. He eventually came to a halt, exposed skin stinging. The fire-user lay there for a long time, staring up at the deceptively bright sun and feeling strangely… disappointed.

_I survived. Huh._

He sat up and his body brutally informed him of every new ache and pain. A glance downward showed tiny cuts and forming contusions lining his flesh, some weeping crimson. The fire-user shifted, grimacing as pain flared through him, and froze when the tan sand beneath him dug into his open wounds. It stung, but that was not the reason for his dismay.

Panic took hold as the familiar, gritty substance got into his blood. Ace's throat strained but no sound came out, only speckles of red. He clawed at his skin, brushing the sand off of him as if it were spiders. The natural sand fell off, but the black sand remained, and so he scrubbed harder, trying to rid himself of the disgusting poison.

Small streaks of red smeared over his chest and limbs, causing the fire-user to still, staring at the crimson on the ground and his hands. His black-mark detailed fingers twitched and the Summer Spirit gagged, covering his mouth. It was inside him. He did not want it inside him.

_Get it out. Get it out. Get it out._

Ace rubbed furiously at the marks on his arms and stomach, making his skin raw and reddish but the sand refused to go away, trapped within his body and beneath his skin. His fingers spasmed again and desperation took hold. He could not do this anymore. He could not handle more nightmares. He needed the black sand gone. He needed it  _out_.

He dug his nails into his side and stomach— above the wound that began all of this— but hands grabbed his wrists, pulling them away. The contact hurt—  _knives needles lava stabbed_ — like it always did now. Ace met Not-Marco's wide blue eyes and felt a little more of his fractured psyche crumble.

The Phoenix had followed him. He had hunted him down. He must be angry at the fire-user for making him risk his life.

Ace knew the storm had been his fault. He had let his powers get out of control like he always did. He was a dangerous, violent Nature Spirit, and all he did was hurt and destroy. He knew that now.

The fire-user had been fully prepared to die to his own creation, as he should, even smiling as the storm raged around him and he realized the latest nightmare was going to end. But then the Phoenix had run to him, disregarding his own safety to help Ace.

Ace did not know why he had saved the Not-Marco from the wave. Maybe it was the terror in his blue eyes as he ran towards the Summer Spirit. Maybe it was the way he had tried to shield the fire-user's body with his own. Maybe it was the fact that the ocean was one of the few things that could kill the Phoenix. Maybe it was the small detail that Ace had seen his old friend die so many times he could not bear to see it again.

Whatever it was, Ace had felt the sudden urge to protect, moving between Not-Marco and the wave as fire burst from his body. The flames had felt wonderful, warm and calming and bright, and although the fire-user was uncertain exactly what he had done, he had succeeded in his goal. He had kept Not-Marco safe, shielded him from the wave that could strip him of his abilities and push him into the sea.

Ace had actually felt  _proud_ , for a single second.

Then Not-Haruta had proven that he was still in nightmares, shouting that the fire-user had almost caused Not-Marco's death. It was then that the Summer Spirit saw the flickers of blue flame on the Phoenix, and comprehended that he had nearly burned Not-Marco alive. The realization that even when he tried to help people he was still a monster had been the final blow.

It had been too much.

It had been too much long before then.

So he had run.

And Not-Marco had followed.

Ace could only wonder what the Phoenix was going to do to him now.

A tiny part of him whispered that he should fight Not-Marco, but the desire was suggested more out of fear than defiance. Ace would not be able to get away and escape. He was never able to flee from the people that hurt him. All he could do was hope that he died quickly.

So when Not-Marco grabbed his wrists and pinned him to the sand, Ace did not resist. When the Phoenix pressed his arms down at his sides, holding them there so he could not defend himself, the Summer Spirit did not struggle. The numb acceptance of his fate was back, and so the fire-user only stared at Not-Marco's chin hollowly, unable to meet his likely-furious eyes. He could not tell if the blonde pirate was upset or angry. Probably both.

" _Enough_." The Phoenix said harshly. "That's enough, Ace."

Ace turned his head towards the ocean and watched the waves brush against the shore. He tried to focus on the movement of the sea to distance himself but could not do it. He did not bother to tell himself everything would be fine. It would not be. The fire-user trembled, and waited.

He was not afraid. Not anymore. Ace was  _tired_. Tired of fighting. Tired of fleeing. Tired of betrayals. Tired of nightmares and fear. He knew he had given up— He had given up a long time ago— but instead of feeling bad, all he could do was accept it. How could he even claim to be who he once was anymore when the similarities between him and Fire Fist Portgas D. Ace were practically nonexistent?

The black sand was crawling again, for the first time in a long time. Ace felt it slither over his back and inch up his ribcage, bringing its icy numbness with it. He experienced the smallest glimmer of panic as it crept up over his throat and face, feeling like a noose around his neck and a smothering pillow over his mouth and nose.

Not-Marco breathed in sharply. "Oda,  _no_. Ace, you're okay. You're fine. You can beat this." He sounded scared again. "Don't give up, kid!"

_I already have. I'm sorry_ , Ace thought morosely, refusing to look at him.  _Besides, this is a nightmare anyway. It doesn't matter._

He blinked rapidly as the sand slid over his eyelid, past his eyebrow and caressing his hairline. He supposed he should be more concerned about the blackness moving towards his heart, but he could not muster the effort. Numbness faded and bolts of pain ripped through him, making his breathing stutter and his body jerk.

Ace vaguely remembered Pitch's promise of an agonizing death, and distantly hoped this was real. He did not want to fall to the black sand more than once. It was starting to hurt. In fact it hurt a  _lot_ , like Bay had injected him with that organ-shredding drug again. At least he could show his pain this time, limbs twitching and jaw quivering as he clenched his teeth.

He belatedly realized Not-Marco was holding him upright, hugging Ace. The pain from the pirate's touch was overwhelmed by the black sand's progress. The Phoenix breathed quickly, his normally half-lidded eyes fully open with terror.

"Don't you  _dare_. You are  _not_  losing to this. Don't you want to see your brothers again? Luffy and Sabo?"

Ace kind of did, but they were better off never knowing he had been reborn.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, each intake of air slow and rattling. It felt like his lungs were being filled with ice-water. He felt the black sand stretch more, circling his heart like a predator with prey. Ace knew it was mocking him and prolonging his suffering. As if it knew his thoughts, the sand prodded at his heart— his soul?— each jab like a knife plunging into his chest.

Again, his larynx strained, unable to let loose the screams he should be voicing. He coughed instead and felt blood splatter onto his chin. The fire-user tried to claw at his own skin—  _Get it out. Get it out._ — but the Phoenix kept his arms pinned, wrestling with him and keeping him from attempting to remove the sand. Didn't he understand it was causing Ace pain?

Not-Marco was still rambling about people who would apparently miss Ace if he died here, saying things about how he was strong, and was a fighter, and could do this, and would survive. The fire-user did not have the cognitive ability to wonder how the Phoenix knew the sand was killing him, his mind sinking into a whitish-grey haze as the poison overwhelmed him. It was just like when he had been stabbed by Akainu and Pitch. His limbs grew heavy and numb, and a harsh coldness slithered through his veins.

_H-Hurts._

Ace slowly comprehended that he was dying in a loved one's arms again. He supposed he should feel sorry about that. Marco or Not-Marco did not deserve to see him die again. But the fire-user had already fought for so long. He had already tried to stay strong for himself and his family. Comforts grew meaningless, reunions grew repetitive, trying did not change anything, and nothing mattered in the end. Ace had nothing left to sustain him.

"What about Jack?" Not-Marco blurted, voice shaking. "Surely you don't want to leave him alone?"

… _He… knows… Jack?_

Ace forced his eyes to open and move to meet the Phoenix's. He frowned subconsciously. Did he ever tell Marco about Jack? He might have, but he could not recall. So many memories were gone, fake, or altered, and the fire-user had no way to sort them. Not-Marco misunderstood his bout of attentiveness.

"I saw Jack once, yoi. At Mar— A while ago. He was sad when you… left." The normally coolheaded pirate babbled. "I never saw him after, but I bet he was searching for you all this time. I never met him personally, but I know Jack will never give up on you. He's  _still_  looking for you, yoi. Don't you want to see him again?"

Ace… did. It was a surprising revelation, but the fire-user could not deny that he still wanted to reunite with Jack, even after everything. It took a while, but Ace identified the reason why he could think of the Winter Spirit without remorse or terror.

Jack never hurt him.

In all of his nightmares, the Guardian of Fun never harmed or betrayed Ace. Jack had been with Ace since he was an infant, so he would not suddenly up and abandon the fire-user. The Winter Spirit did not give a damn about Ace's heritage, so that fear was out as well. Jack might have died once or twice, but such an occurrence was much rarer than Luffy or Sabo losing their lives.

In fact, Jack was rarely present in Ace's visions of fear at all. He wouldn't be. The Guardian was the opposite of fear. He was fun, and snow days, and freedom. The fire-user wondered how he had not noticed that before, and felt… something.

The black sand ground to a halt, unable to proceed further.

"That's right." Not-Marco whispered, staring intently at Ace's face. "You can do it. You can keep fighting. Come on, kid…"

The pain and iciness retreated slightly. Ace could breathe again. The fire-user scrutinized Not-Marco carefully, wondering why a figment of his nightmares would be helping him so much. Unless… he wasn't an illusion?

The logical part of Ace warned him not to hope again, but the part of him that always stayed desperate to identify reality leapt upon the possibility. The fire-user wiggled in the Phoenix's hold, trying to stand up and failing spectacularly. He ended up curled at the Commander's side, tucked protectively against his body like a child with a parent. The contact felt nauseating and awful, but he could not care less. A while ago, Ace may have found the position to be embarrassing. Now, he did not give a damn, just glad to possibly be safe for once.

The Phoenix murmured something about Ace being all right, telling him to rest for a moment, but the fire-user ignored him. The Summer Spirit glanced around, pointing urgently at a nearby stick, and Not-or-maybe-Real-Marco obediently leaned over and handed it to him. The fire-user wobbly drew in the wet sand near the water, barely legible words forming in the dirt.

_Are you real?_

The answer was instantaneous. "Yes. I'm  _real_ , yoi. Shanks told Oyaji, Izo, and I about what is happening with you. He told us that you've been trapped in nightmares… and who did it. Pitch Black."

The Phoenix spoke quickly, as if he were rushing the words out in order to not give Ace time to fret about an explanation. The fire-user briefly wondered how Shanks would know all of that, stomach clenching uncomfortably as Marco indirectly mentioned Pitch, then dismissed the concerns. Hope was almost as terrifying as his nightmares now, but surely the visions would not be elaborate enough to have a fake-Shanks with knowledge of the black sand. That was too fantastical to be believed, but the fire-user was nervous to realize he did indeed believe it.

Marco met his gaze, expression firm. "I am real, Ace." He confirmed again. "I am real, and this is reality. You're awake."

It felt ironically surreal. Ace did not know how to react to it. The fire-user felt the black sand beckon angrily, likely upset it had lost its grip on him but he ignored it, blinking tiredness from his eyes. He gripped his stick uncertainly, and dropped it when it started to smoke. The Phoenix gave a low, shaky chuckle.

"Careful there." He paused, eyes roaming over the fire-user's tattoo-like marks. Before Ace could feel self-conscious, the Phoenix continued. "I don't fully know what's going on. I don't know exactly what happened to you. But I am here for you now. I will help you keep track of reality. Every time that you 'wake up', come find me.  _Every time_. The real me will not hurt you. I will not yell at you. I will not reject you.  _The first thing I will say to you is that I'm real._ Okay?"

His voice was firm, blunt, and unyielding, but his tone comforted Ace instead of disturbing him. This was new. This had never happened before. It was not a repeat, or a loop, or a nightmare that could be predicted. He should worry that the sand was simply giving him a spot of levity so that it could take it away, but somehow Ace suspected that was not the case.

The fire-user felt the brief urge to hug Marco, but did not, instead managing to shoot the Phoenix a smile. Tendrils of hope bloomed in his chest, and his eyes turned into the color of flames.

_Thank you,_  he thought.

The furious black sand yanked at Ace and muscles gave out. Marco caught him as he fell, but for the first time in a long time, the fire-user was not afraid. Now he had someone to help him. Now he had someone to search for. Now he finally had a way to identify what reality was.

_I… can do this_ , Ace thought with amazement.

And the black sand whisked him away.


	15. Acceptance

Ace had to wonder if hope truly was a good thing like people claimed. At first it seemed like a light in the darkness, an aspiration to achieve, and a reason to fight. Yet at the same time hope was a cruel, mocking presence that always attempted to slip away from him. It dangled just out of reach or slid through his fingers like smoke, present but unattainable as it forced him to cling to the baseless idea of it. But no matter how much it hurt, the fire-user could not afford to lose hope again.

Ace stood outside of Marco's room for the one hundred seventy-third time, hand raised to knock. The fire-user swallowed nervously, fist hovering in front of the thin layer of wood that separated him from the Phoenix. He noticed it was trembling slightly but could not make the movement cease.

_It might be him this time,_  he told himself.  _It might be the real Marco. I have to keep checking._

Unless the sand had pulled the cruelest trick it could on Ace, the Summer Spirit had found reality. He had been on a real island, in the real world, with the real Marco, who had firmly informed him of said realness and encouraged him to find him. The Phoenix had given Ace a possible way to identify existence at last and so the fickle, unkind hope the fire-user once lost had ensnared him once more.

But with that hope had risen a new fear which the black sand had pounced on with gusto. Every time Ace woke somewhere he sought out Marco, just like Real-Marco had told him to. Every time, it turned out he was still in nightmares. Some Not-Marco's acted like Real-Marco, but they did not assure him that he was in reality like Real-Marco had promised. Other Not-Marco's attacked him the moment he approached them. Frankly, Ace preferred the former to the latter, not only because of the lack of fury and attacks aimed at him, but also because the Not-Marco's that acted more like what Real-Marco might were easier to escape.

If the fire-user did not wake on the Moby Dick or with a Marco nearby, or encountered a fake Phoenix's lack of reassuring and understanding, Ace could simply lay down and 'fall asleep', letting the black sand drag him to the next dream. If the Not-Marco began to hurt him, moving between worlds became a lot harder. It turned out pain ironically kept him conscious, so until he was killed or got knocked out, the fire-user was trapped in whatever hell he woke in.

Ace did his best not to become afraid of Marco though. He was not as sure as he was with Jack, but he was at least a little certain than the real Phoenix would not hurt him. He just had to keep remembering that. He found it helped to stay detached as long as possible and follow the latest routine he had created for himself in order to keep himself from falling into despair once more.

_Wake up. Find out where I am. Seek out Marco. If he's nice, ask him if this is real. If not… try to get away. If the nice-Marco is confused, go back to sleep. Repeat._

It was tedious and nerve-wracking— especially whenever something unexpected happened to interrupt his procedure— but Ace kept at it. Maybe it was stubbornness or desperation, but he did the same thing over and over with the hope that this time it would be different, that  _this time_  he would find the real world again.

With that in mind, the fire-user finally knocked.

"Go away. I'm busy, yoi."

The cold, snappish response came through the door, and Ace lay on the floor in the hallway. He heard footsteps approach but ignored them, letting the sand snag his consciousness.

He woke in the infirmary. The fire-user went through his routine, detaching the wires and sneaking past Bay. As usual, the Whitebeard Pirates in the halls did not speak to him, some passing through him as he went. The Summer Spirit barely twitched at the contact— or lack of it— instances where humans believed in and actually could touch him feeling far worse than instances where they could not. He vaguely recalled a time when being walked through was the worst pain imaginable. Nowadays it did not even bother him. It was all like clockwork now.

Ace stood before Marco's door again, swallowed, and knocked. The door opened. Possibly-Marco yawned widely, rubbing at his eyes. He squinted at Ace, who stared back alertly.

_Maybe this time. Maybe this time. Please please please—_

"Ace? Why are you up?" the First Division Commander asked.

The fire-user lay on the floor, dismissing Not-Marco's confused words, and drifted away.

The Phoenix was at his bedside this time. Noticing Ace's opened eyes, he marked the page on his book and set it down.

"It's about time you woke up." the blonde pirate said.

Ace waited patiently— and nervously— for the man to continue.  _It might be him this time. It might be._

"Bay said you can leave the infirmary today…"

Ace went back to sleep.

He woke in the infirmary.

_I'll find him this time._

He detached the wires.

He escaped Bay.

He went to Marco's room.

He knocked.

"What the hell are you doing out of the sickbay? You're still injured you id—"

Ace went to sleep.

Different nightmare.

He was not on the Moby Dick.

Luffy was dead.

Sabo was dead.

Jack was dead.

Ace followed.

Woke in infirmary.

_Maybe this time._

Removed wires.

Escaped Bay.

Marco's room.

Knocked.

Not-Marco slashed him across the face with his talons. Ace passed out from blood loss.

Infirmary.

_This time._

Wires.

Escape.

Room.

Knock.

The Phoenix asked if he was okay. No mention of reality.

Ace went to sleep.

Different nightmare.

Imprisoned.

Experiments.

No escape.

He could not find Marco.

They tore him apart.

He wanted to die.

He did.

Infirmary.

_Please…_

Wires.

Escape.

Room.

Knock.

Marco opened the door.

"Out of bed again, yoi?"

Ace did not bother to lay down.

He just collapsed, Not-Marco's horrified shouts sounding in his ears before blackness drowned him.

Marco was at his bedside again, perched in a sturdy little chair opposite the door.

Ace looked at him, taking in his slumped posture and the permanent shadows beneath his eyes. The fire-user's throat tightened but beyond that he felt no urge to shed tears or burst into hysterics. Not that he could allow himself too. He did not want to scare what might be the real Marco away. The Phoenix finally detected that he had an observer and glanced up at Ace.

Possibly-Marco closed the book he was reading with a snap, making the Summer Spirit jump. The Phoenix shifted in his chair so that he was leaning forward, blue eyes intense as they met the fire-user's.

"I'm real, Ace." Marco said without preamble. "This is real, yoi."

There was so much Ace wanted to do and say, but he could not. He wanted to thank Marco and babble about how happy he was to see him. He wanted to hug the Phoenix and never let go. He wanted to laugh and dance around the room, overjoyed to be with his family again. He wanted to race around the ship, greeting the Whitebeard Pirates one by one and apologizing for leaving them for so long. The fire-user could do none of those things. Instead he stared at Marco uncomprehendingly.

_He said it? He said it. I found Real-Marco. Huh,_  Ace mused, still unable to register the thought.

This was the real Marco. He had finally been reunited with his real family.

Ace… did not know what to do. He was confounded by the situation. He had gone through similar scenarios thousands of times before, and to repeat the gestures, greetings, and events of those nightmares seemed unacceptable. But he had to do  _something_. He was supposed to, wasn't he? This was real. This reunion was real. Shouldn't he be happy?

Ace's fingers twitched and that strange tightness came back, encompassing his chest and throat. He was shaking. Why was he shaking? He should not be. He wasn't afraid. His lips parted but no sound escaped, so he pressed them together again. His eyes stung.

Marco's hand rested on his shoulder and Ace stilled, resisting the urge to thrash and escape the man's hold. He needed the contact as much as he despised it, because through the knives and nausea, Ace could feel the firmness of the Phoenix's palm, the  _realness_  of it.

_He's real. I'm awake._

Ace did not know whether to laugh or cry.

He ended up doing both.

Marco murmured softly to him as he wept and mutely giggled, the mixture of sobs and chuckles soon transforming into a bout of panicked hiccups and gasps. The Phoenix's touch was uncomfortable and Ace's chest hurt from the stress put upon it, but the fire-user did not shy away from the sensations. He was finally conscious. He was finally in reality. He had done it.

Ace felt exhausted— in more ways than one— but he fought against the tiredness, clinging to awareness with the desperation of a man hanging off the edge of a cliff. Marco glared at the door for some reason, then returned his gaze to the fire-user and whispered the usual phrases quietly in his ear.

"This is real. It's okay. It's okay, Ace. You're all right. You're safe. You're home now, yoi."

For the first time, Ace believed it. That did not lessen his confusion, however. So much had happened, and so much had  _not_  happened. He had so many questions…

_Calm down. I need answers. Calm. Act normal._

The fire-user inhaled sharply and forced his emotions back under control. Tears ceased, hysterics faded, and Ace's face settled into a placid expression. He had gotten quite good at faking it in the past few 'years'. His abrupt shift from sobbing to stoic made Marco's half-lidded eyes flick open with alarm, but Ace could not care less.

He peered at the Phoenix with wary flame-colored eyes, mouth moving wordlessly. Ace waved his hands and attempted to mime what he wanted, but the blonde pirate did not understand at first. Marco stared at him for a long period, brow furrowed, before his eyes lit with comprehension.

"I'll be right back." He promised.

He stood up and left the room. Ace heard him rummaging around outside, the noise briefly accompanied by Bay's questioning tones. The fire-user twitched and held his breath, letting loose a sigh of relief when Marco returned alone. The Phoenix handed him a notebook and pen and the Summer Spirit immediately began to write.

" _How long has it been since you found me? Who found me? Have I met Oyaji yet? What happened when I woke up last? Was the storm real? Did I hurt anyone?_ _Does anyone hate_ _—"_

The questions flew onto the page, with Ace too frantic for information to hold them back. He quickly stopped writing the last one, crossing it out furiously. Marco must have spotted it though, because his expression darkened. The fire-user swallowed nervously.

" _Sorry."_ He wrote.

"Don't apologize." The Phoenix said firmly but kindly. "It's been twenty days since Shanks found you on one of Oyaji's islands, yoi. You did go to see Oyaji with me. Do you remember what happened when you met him?"

Ace stared at the page, tracing a few of the letters. He thought back to all of the 'reunions' he could remember, and twitched, accidentally dragging the pen across the paper and leaving a long black streak. Before Marco could comment, the fire-user wrote.

" _Did he hit me?"_ He did not mean to write the question, but it came out anyway.

"No!" Marco nearly shouted. He composed himself and continued in a calmer voice. "Oyaji would never hurt you, yoi. That wasn't real."

_It_ _ **felt**_ _real,_  Ace thought, shivering.

"Oyaji was happy to see you, and we talked about your tattoo, remember?" the Phoenix asked.

Ace stared at the page, drawing random squiggles on it instead of responding. He ended up doodling a couple flowers and a sun, focusing on the sketches instead of the lingering silence. To the fire-user's surprise, the blonde pirate did not huff or demand an answer from him. Though he supposed Marco would not.

_It's the real Marco_ , he reminded himself.  _This is real._

It did not feel like Ace was awake. Everything seemed off, distant, and wrong. Like he was watching a play about his life instead of living it. Perhaps it was the lingering suspicion— fear—that it was all a nightmare that made it so hard for Ace to connect to the world around him. Or maybe he was so used to this scenario that actually living through it was more repetitive than joyous. The Phoenix would probably be sad if he noticed the fire-user felt that way.

_I'm doing this all wrong. I'm messing it up. I'm not acting right. I should be excited. I should be happy. I'm_ _**trying** _ _to be._

… _I'm still broken, aren't I? I'm sorry, Marco._

"Here's what we'll do, yoi." Marco decided abruptly, interrupting Ace's darkening thoughts. "If you are uncertain about something being real or from a dream, ask me about it and I'll tell you to the best of my ability. I won't know everything, but I'll be able to help answer some of your questions at least, yoi."

The offer was given so genuinely Ace momentarily could not form a response. Not that he was doing much of that before. The fire-user drew circles and swirls on the paper for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

He thought he saw panic flash across Marco's calm gaze but when the Summer Spirit looked at him, the Phoenix was encouraging once more. Ace mentally shrugged, eyes drifting back to the paper. He could do this. He could do better. Small steps.

He cast his mind backwards, picked a memory, and wrote.

" _Vista was with Whitebeard when I saw him?"_

"Not real." Marco responded instantly.

He was wearing that bored expression that told Ace that he was hiding his emotions. The fire-user chewed on his lip, otherwise keeping his own face blank. Internally he shrank self-consciously, feeling like a fool.

_Sorry. I upset you. What if I'm wrong again?_

"Do you want me to tell you what happened?" the Phoenix offered quietly.

The fire-user shook his head stubbornly, swallowing his nerves. He recalled another version of his reunion with Whitebeard as he scribed another sentence.

" _Izo was there?"_

"Real. He was, yoi." Marco said, brightening.

Ace wrote the next sentence quickly, knowing if he hesitated he would never get it out.  _"He said my tattoo was like a painting?"_

The Phoenix was openly grinning now. "That's right. Real."

Ace felt like he was forgetting something extremely important about that one encounter. After a long moment of consideration, he recalled Haruta's angry words and furious departure. That brought up memories of another encounter with the short Commander and the fire-user's mood dropped.

" _The storm?"_

The Phoenix sighed. "Real."

" _Haruta yelling at me?"_

Marco winced. "…Real, yoi."

Guilt gnawed at Ace's gut.  _"Sorry. Did anyone get hurt?"_

"Other than a few bruises and some colds, no. You don't have to apologize." The Phoenix said firmly. "It's not like you can control the weather."

" _I'm…"_

The Summer Spirit nearly snapped the pen in half. He loosened his grip and held the utensil above the page, trying to force his hand to move. It deigned to dismiss his demands, staying stiff and still where it was just after the first word.

… _not human anymore_ , he thought.  _And I_ _ **did**_ _control it._

"… _sorry."_  he wrote.

It was true. Ace was sorry for causing the storm and hurting the pirates. But he was not ready to tell Marco he was no longer a human. He was a Spirit— a Nature one at that— and he was too uncomfortable with the idea of the Phoenix knowing about his current state to inform him of it.

Marco was already so stressed and sad. If he realized Ace truly had died and been resurrected, he might blame himself or something equally stupid. The fire-user's death had been his own fault. He was the only one to blame for it. Ignoring the blatant hypocrisy of his thoughts, the black-haired Spirit tuned in as Marco denied that he had to apologize again.

" _Sor_ _—"_

Ace crossed it out, but not before Marco spotted the word and shot him a glare. He instinctively turned the unfinished letters into an elaborate set of leaves and drew a circle next to the remainder of the word, making a crude pineapple-like drawing.

Ace was not sure why he did it. His hand moved on its own. Maybe he was just that desperate to distract the Phoenix and make him stop glowering, the expression on his hard features reminding the fire-user too much of the Not-Marcos of his nightmares. Ace wrote next to the picture and pointed at it, showing his creation to the blonde pirate.

" _Look. It's you."_

The Phoenix blinked. Ace added two large, half-lidded eyes to the pineapple as an afterthought and looked nervously at Marco. The blonde pirate gave a loud chuckle that startled them both. Soon the chortle became full-blown laughter. The First Division Commander nearly doubled over as he cackled, and the fire-user felt his own lips twitch.

For the first time since waking, Ace felt like he did something right.

Marco took the notebook, holding it up next to his face as he raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying that I look like a lumpy potato with a mohawk?"

The fire-user snatched the notebook back, hesitated, and wrote what felt natural.  _"It's obviously a pineapple."_

"It's terrible." The Phoenix teased.

The Ace of old would have immaturely stuck his tongue out at Marco. The Ace of a few days ago would have broken beneath the perceived criticism, looking down to hide his insecurities. The Ace of now considered his words and shrugged, not exactly bothered by them, but not confident enough to respond with his own taunts.

" _It's awesome._ _Thatch would be able to_ _—"_  Ace's writing slowed and he crossed out the sentence.

His mind drifted back to the storm, and he frowned subconsciously. According to Marco, the storm and its aftermath were real. That meant the stuff before it was real. To preserve his fragile balance of serenity, Ace ignored the  _very important_  piece of information that arose from that memory. Instead he diverted his attention away to something safe but related.

" _The railing?"_

It took a moment for Marco to realize what he was referring to, and when he did, his skin blanched white.

"Real." He croaked.

Ace wondered why the Phoenix looked so shaken. He felt a surge of remorse for ruining his happy mood. But Marco said to ask questions so…

The blonde pirate controlled his expression when he saw the fire-user watching. "You thought you were in a nightmare." He comprehended. "Did you think there would not be any consequences or— or were you trying to—" His mouth moved, but the words stuck in his throat.

Ace watched him struggle in confusion. Then he remembered the conversation he had during the encounter with Thatch.

" _I wasn't trying to kill myself, Marco."_  he wrote, trying to make the Phoenix feel better.  _"I was trying to fly away and escape."_

The blonde pirate exhaled harshly, the breath shaky and ragged. "You're telling the truth? I need you to be honest with me, Ace."

The fire-user tipped his head and looked at him curiously.  _"I never got that desperate."_ he wrote. _"I swear I didn't. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. I died plenty of times in the nightmares."_

Except it had been real that time. If Ace had fallen into the ocean, he would have let himself drown and would truly be dead.

_I could have killed myself on accident_ , the fire-user mused.  _Oh. I should be horrified by that._

He wasn't. That was probably a bad reaction. What else was new?

Sadly, the Phoenix noticed his lack of dismay.

"Tell me what you're thinking." Marco pleaded more than demanded.

Ace considered it.

" _But then you'll be sadder."_  he wrote instead, the sentence feeling rather childish in hindsight.

The Phoenix did not laugh at him, much to his relief, responding to his worry seriously. "Perhaps, but I'd rather be upset than ignorant. I know I'm pressing you for answers, but I need to know what's going on in order to help you."

" _I don't—"_  Need? Want? Deserve?  _"— require your help."_

The look Marco gave him told the fire-user how much the Phoenix believed him. "I'm offering it anyway. You've been suffering alone for who knows how long, but I'm here for you now. How would you feel if Luffy was in your position?"

At least that response was uncorrupted.  _"I'd want to help him."_

_But Luffy wouldn't let this happen to him. He's stronger than I'll ever be,_ he thought, unable to share that sentiment with Marco.

… _I don't trust Real-Marco_ , Ace gradually realized, heart clenching.  _Not fully._   _I thought I could, but I can't. It's— Too much is too similar to the nightmares._

It was difficult not to let the guilt and shame weigh him down, but the fire-user managed to struggle free of it. Ace was in the real world now. Things he did and how he reacted mattered. What an alien, unfamiliar concept.

_I'm not better_ , Ace admitted only to himself.  _I am very not-better._   _I'll try to be though. I have to try._

" _I can't tell you everything,"_ he forced himself to write.  _"_ _I'm so_ _"—_  The unfinished apology was scribbled out.  _"I'm not ready,"_  he said instead.  _"It's too soon. You were my_ _en_ _—"_ The last two letters were furiously hidden amongst the ink. _"—not my friend too recently, for years in the nightmares. It's not your fault. It's mine. I_ _let Pitch_ — _"_  Scribble _"_ — _lost myself to the nightmares."_

Marco's face fell. "Ace…"

Sensing his upcoming words, the fire-user guiltily circled  _"I'm not ready."_  on the page. He knew he was hurting the Phoenix with his refusal, but he could not take the leap of faith that the man required. Ace could not trust Marco enough to tell him about becoming a Spirit, hiding from his family like a coward instead of revealing himself, being captured and tortured, and having to eventually leave them for Earth anyway. Not yet.

He had already 'done so before' in the nightmares, all of which were too fresh for him to repeat the experience. Even if Marco was absolutely fine with every single secret and trauma Ace kept close to his heart, the fire-user was still uncertain about burdening the poor Division Commander. Not to mention the lingering fear that all of this was a trick.

_Please let me be selfish and keep things to myself. I can't tell you. I_ _**can't** _ _._

Ace refused to let his eyes do more than sting as he gave Marco a small offering to hold onto.  _"I'll try to explain one day. But not right now."_

He needed to figure out some things by himself first.

Marco nodded in agreement, cerulean eyes growing sharp for a moment as he glared at the door. Ace glanced behind him to see the doorway was empty. At least, he hoped it was.

_Could I still be hallucinating even when I'm awake? I must be able to, since I saw Th—_

The revelation Ace had been trying to ignore since remembering the railing took the opportunity to barge into the forefront of his mind. The pen snapped in his hand, sending ink spraying across his fingers, the paper, and the sheets. The fire-user brushed off Marco's gasp and concern, flipping to a clean page and scrawling on it with the remnants of his writing utensil.

" _Thatch was real?"_

Ace frantically circled the chef's name on the paper, shoving it in the Phoenix's face. Marco pushed the notebook down, giving the fire-user a look that was equally amiable and cautious.

"Yes, Thatch was—  _is_ — real." He murmured.

Thatch was alive.

Ace's friend, who he was sure had been murdered, who he had gone out to get vengeance for in a quest that had cost the fire-user his life… was alive.

_This is unexpected._

In contrast to his dissonant thoughts, flames flickered to life along the Summer Spirit's shoulders, causing Marco to jump to his feet. Ace smothered the blaze— and the emotions flashing across his face— before the Phoenix could comment, returning to a detached— fake?— serenity.

_Calm._

He was happy, and worried, and confused, and angry, and felt very,  _very_  guilty about feeling that last emotion. Was this how the Whitebeard Pirates felt when they discovered he was alive? Ace hoped not, as hypocritical as it was. Because a part of him wanted to storm up to Thatch and demand to know what the hell happened, at the same time worrying that someone was going to do that to him.

_So selfish. I don't think I care. Is that bad?_

Ace casually wiped the ink on his hands on the already ruined sheets and then chucked them carelessly onto the floor. Bay was probably going to murder him. He was used to it so it was fine. But… this was reality. So he really  _did_  just irreversibly stain the blankets.

_Oh. Things I do matter. Oops._

It was so hard to remember that. He thought he saw Marco glowering at the doorway again, but when he looked back at the man, his expression was calm. The Phoenix stood up and firmly shut the door before turning back to Ace.

"Would you tell me how you feel about Thatch's survival, at least?" he persuaded. "As much of an annoyance he can be, I'd like some warning if you decide to punch him again."

Ace recalled the correct 'vision' and paled.  _"I shoved Thatch?"_

"Real." Marco confirmed unenthusiastically. "He's fine, yoi. He even said he deserved it."

_Do I deserve to be punched then?_  Was the fire-user's foremost concern. He considered it, then took a breath and nodded to himself.  _Yes,_   _I do. It's fine._   _I can handle it. Calm._

Ace kept his posture relaxed and his expression placid, imprisoning the tendrils of nerves that began gripping his limbs and heart. He thought he did pretty well until he heard the Phoenix curse lowly.

" _Shit_. I wasn't saying— That's not what I meant, Ace. No one's going to hurt you, and if they do, they are  _wrong_." Marco hesitated. "They are wrong, and you need to fight back, do you understand?"

_Nope,_  Ace thought.  _"Of course."_  He wrote.

Marco's obvious disapproval made the panic want to break free, but Ace kept it hidden away where the Phoenix— hopefully— could not see it. The fire-user was getting tired— thankfully not physically— of keeping his emotions in check, and found himself doodling on the page again to distract himself.

"I know you better than you want me to." Marco said sternly, diverting Ace's scrutiny back to him. "It's  _not_  your fault that you were captured. It's  _not_  your fault that this happened to you. Do you understand?"

It seemed like all the fire-user could do was make the Phoenix unhappy. Guiltily, Ace looked at the paper and demolished pen, flipping to another page.

" _Understood. It was not my fault."_  The fire-user wrote obediently.

They both knew Ace did not mean it.

Marco let the matter go for the moment. The Phoenix glanced at the closed door, frowning as he shifted on his seat. The fire-user studied the blonde man, wondering about the reasons for his agitation. His psyche wanted to blame himself for the man's distraction— Why would the Phoenix want to spend his time with a wreck like Ace?— but this was Real-Marco and Ace was certain he would only be here in the first place if he wanted to be… right?

For the first time Ace wondered how long Marco had been at his bedside. It could not have been that long, seeing as how he was the First Division Commander and all. Ace was not so important that Marco would forsake his many duties. He had things to do, people to lead, meetings to attend, reports to fill out…

_Oh._

" _You need to be somewhere."_  Ace wrote.

"No I don't, yoi." The Phoenix denied.

Ace did not buy his lie. Marco only got so twitchy when he was late, and he had to be late to something pretty big to want to leave now.

_Or he just doesn't want to deal with me anymore,_  the fire-user thought rationally.

The stab of grief the thought brought was distant and muffled, carefully locked behind Ace's straining shield of normalcy. Little things like that would not hurt him. He was stronger than that. He had to be.

_Don't be a baby. I'm not that important. Just stay calm a little longer._

Ace wrote what Old Ace would likely say.  _"I'll be fine without you for ten minutes. Go. Do what you need to. Mother hen."_

When Marco continued to watch him with those searching eyes, the fire-user purposely put on a smirk and shooed him away exaggeratedly.

_Hide the fear. Hide the mistrust. Hide the paranoia. Hide the loneliness. Just hold yourself together for a little longer._

Ace felt like such a fraud.

Marco exhaled, his intense gaze softening. "All right, yoi. I have to go meet with Oyaji, but I'll be back right after. I'll bring some food from the kitchens."

" _Just you?"_  Ace asked, thoughts drifting to a certain pompadour-sporting chef. His heart squeezed painfully.  _Don't think about it. Detach._

"Just me." Marco confirmed, and departed.

As soon as the door closed behind the Phoenix, Ace drooped, clapping a hand over his mouth and breathing slowly in order to prevent hyperventilation. He did it mostly out of habit to ensure he did not accidentally alert Marco to his distress if he somehow made a sound. He finally allowed his body to tremble, the mixture of fear, stress, and excitement he had been holding back reaching the surface at last.

_He didn't hurt me_ , Ace marveled.  _Marco really didn't hurt me._

He could hardly believe it. Ace had been certain the Phoenix would snap at him at least once during their conversation, losing his temper or running out of patience because of the fire-user's evasiveness and twitchiness.

The Summer Spirit had waited with bated breath for Marco to turn on him, prodding the man both intentionally and unintentionally, but the anticipated betrayal never happened. Instead the blonde pirate had remained calm and supportive, relenting instead of pushing and not forcing Ace to do or reveal anything too uncomfortable. It seemed too good to be true.

_It_ _ **is**_ _true,_  Ace reminded himself.  _I can't let myself doubt that. If I do, I'll end up doing something I'll regret._

Even though the thought was ominous, Ace felt his lips move upward. He was genuinely smiling. It was just a little thing, but it meant a lot.

_Little steps. I am not okay. It is going to be a while before I am close to being okay. But at least I'm on my way now._

The worst had passed, and yet at the same time it had not. The black sand was still in Ace's veins. It would still pull him into nightmares whenever he lost consciousness. But now the Summer Spirit had the ability to single out the real world among the horde of fakes. He had someone to help him if he wished.

He had found Marco.

He had found reality.

Now he just needed to stay awake in order to remain in it.

_Don't sleep. Don't sleep. Don't sleep._

ROTGOPROTGOP

"Stupid idiotic brothers." Marco hissed lowly as he stormed through the infirmary. "Bay, if anyone tries to go see Ace, you have my full permission to knock them out."

"With pleasure." The doctor said with an unnerving grin.

She directed the sadistic smile at Speed Jiru and Vista, who graciously accepted their fate. Marco trusted Bay not to cause a scene that would worry Ace when she chewed out the two Commanders for attempting to sneak into the kid's room, and made a mental note to give them a lecture of his own when he got the chance.

All of the Commanders and Whitebeard Pirates had been sternly warned that they were still not allowed to see the fire-user yet, though their blatant disregard for Bay's 'usual prickliness' was understandable. In the Commanders' defense, Bay was always this possessive of her patients, so to those not in the know it seemed like she was just being her usual self.

Whitebeard, Izo, and Marco— and kind of Bay— were the only ones fully aware of Ace's condition and mental state. They knew how overwhelming and catastrophic unexpected and ignorant visitors could be for the kid at this point. Marco was not about to break his vow to Shanks and his confidentiality with Ace by bringing the rest of the Commanders into the know, however.

Though the fact that they were acting out because of withheld information was not going to prevent the First Division Commander from giving them all cleaning duty either.

For now, he needed to report to Oyaji.

Marco had been scheduled to see Whitebeard an hour ago to discuss summoning their allies to search for and combat Pitch, but that meeting had been shoved to a lower priority when Ace had woken after three days of being unconscious. Marco thanked whatever deities that existed that he had been in the room when the fire-user had stirred. The thought of the kid stumbling around the Moby Dick, running into ignorant pirates as he desperately searched for the Phoenix, made his stomach churn.

Marco knocked and quickly entered Whitebeard's room, shutting the door behind him. The lights in the bedroom were dimmed low for the night, just barely enough to illuminate the room. The giant was still awake, surveying the Phoenix with unjudging eyes as he halted before the Yonko.

"Sorry I'm late, Oyaji." He greeted. "Ace woke up again. I was able to convince him this was reality, yoi."

"I guessed that was your reason, my son." Whitebeard rumbled. "Good. How is he?"

"He's better than he was." Marco hedged. "He's willing to communicate with me, and seems to have enough trust in me to share at least some of his thoughts."

Whitebeard continued to look at him knowingly. The Phoenix's stoic front crumbled a little and his shoulders slumped.

"Ace is a mess." He revealed quietly. "He flips from one emotion to the next quicker than I can track, and is even more suspicious of me than he was when we first captured him before he joined us, yoi. He thinks he's hiding it but I could tell. Not only that, but I just saw my emotional and hotheaded little brother go from hysterical to apathetic in half a second flat. It wasn't a mood swing. He did it  _intentionally_. It's like he just turned his emotions  _off_. I'm a little… rattled, yoi."

The Phoenix paced before his Oyaji, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "That's not all, yoi. I made a joke about Thatch saying he deserved to be punched by Ace for making him think he was dead, and Ace thought that meant  _he_  should just sit by and take it if one of us attacks him in anger! He— He has this  _expression_  that he puts on where he just accepts bad things are going to happen and there's nothing he can do to stop it. It's…"

Marco stopped before Whitebeard, feeling years older than his actual age. "Ace isn't just unwell mentally. He seems to be having trouble identifying normal social cues, and whether the people around him are teasing or serious. It doesn't happen all the time, but he sometimes fakes the proper response, like he knows what is expected of him but only acts the part instead of feeling it. When I told him he nearly jumped off the ship, he barely responded. He acted like I had just told him to go get some  _bread_ , yoi. He isn't suicidal, per se. He doesn't care about his own life. Not in the D. 'unafraid of death' way either. He literally  _doesn't care_. It's like dying is an everyday occurrence to him."

It was not a report so much as a fear-filled ramble, the words spilling out of the tired First Division Commander like water from a stream. Marco blinked and sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"He's… He's not well, Oyaji. It hurts to see Ace like this."

Whitebeard was quiet for a moment as he absorbed the plethora of information that had been thrown at him. "And how are  _you_  holding up, my son?" he asked.

Marco rubbed his hand over his tired eyes. "I'm fine, yoi."

"You are not." Oyaji said firmly. "This is putting a strain on you. You are already busy with your other duties. I can have someone else—"

"Don't you  _dare_." Marco said sharply, but eased up on his tone when he recalled who he was talking to. "I won't abandon Ace or make him try to rely on someone else, yoi. That would destroy him. He  _needs_  me. I'm his anchor with reality." His voice lowered. "It's  _bad_ , Oyaji. His memories are all jumbled and he seems to have  _completely forgotten_  about seeing Pitch in your room. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Ace is awake, and seems to be fighting again, but he is far from okay. I… don't know if he'll ever recover."

It was the fear that kept Marco from sleeping whenever he had the opportunity to rest. The simple worry that Ace was still going to collapse beneath the pressure and the Phoenix was going to lose him again. The kid was strong, stronger than many gave him credit for, but even the strongest could fall eventually. Not to mention that the thing wearing him down was  _still happening._

"Do you think the black sand will move towards his heart again?" Whitebeard asked solemnly.

The Phoenix internally shuddered as he recalled Ace's pained trembling, bloody coughs, and animal-like intent to claw the black sand from his skin. He remembered orange eyes turning black as they looked at him hopelessly, pleadingly, silently begging the blonde pirate to let him die.

"I honestly don't know, yoi." Marco said. "Ace could be a thousand times worse than I observed and simply be faking it all. He's become quite a good actor. I just know if I leave him to his own devices, he'll get lost in the nightmares again, go batshit crazy, or accidentally kill himself. I need to be the one thing he can always turn to and trust in his life."

_Even though he's hiding things from me…_

Whitebeard seemed to age before his eyes, a heaviness settling on the proud Yonko's shoulders.

"Very well. Divide some of your duties among the other Commanders while you are there for Ace. Make sure to take care of yourself, too." Whitebeard ordered.

"Yes, Oyaji." Marco said obediently, recognizing the dismissal, and retreated from the room.

It was not until he was returning to Ace, a tray of food in his hands, that the Phoenix realized Whitebeard never asked him to discuss the original purpose for their meeting.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace stayed awake.

It took a lot of effort, but he somehow managed to not fall asleep for a full thirty-two hours thus far. His task had been made more difficult by the fact that he was stuck in a bed in the infirmary, but Marco's presence had helped greatly. The blonde pirate knew that if the fire-user drifted off he would be trapped in nightmares again, so the Phoenix did his best to distract and entertain Ace in order to keep him conscious.

Marco really was a nice man— a fact the Summer Spirit still had trouble believing. He was certainly kinder than Ace deserved, yet the raven-haired ex-pirate found himself yearning for that kindness.

If only the fire-user could stop feeling guilty about keeping the Phoenix up as well.

" _You should go to bed."_  He wrote as he watched Marco do some paperwork at his bedside.

The First Division Commander read the words and shook his head. "There's no point now, yoi. It's morning."

_I'm sorry for keeping you awake_ , Ace thought.  _"You still should try to get some rest. I'll be okay for a couple hours."_

Marco gave him a disbelieving look. "Like you were 'okay' for the twenty minutes I was gone yesterday?"

Ace winced. It was true he had been relatively fine for the first chunk of the Phoenix's absence, but he could only draw and doodle for so long before the black swirls on the page reminded him of the black marks on his skin. When Marco returned with a tray of food for him and the fire-user, Ace was scratching at his arms rather… vigorously. He did not have a chance to break the skin before the blonde man stopped him. And quickly gave him a new pen with blue ink while simultaneously warding off a concerned Bay.

" _I wasn't going to hurt myself."_  Ace explained again.  _"I was just trying to get it out."_

"Clawing at yourself isn't going to remove the sand, yoi." Marco stated firmly but patiently. "That you think it would  _isn't_  a good thing, Ace. And… you do realize the contradiction of those claims, don't you?"

" _I know."_  The fire-user admitted. Ace supposed digging out the sand would involve hurting himself, but he did not see why it was such a big deal. He paused, then continued.  _"I'm just not used to things being real."_

He acknowledged that Marco did not truly understand the true depths of that statement, but he was trying— like Ace was trying— so that was enough for the Summer Spirit. Ace did not understand himself and what was going on in his own head either, so how could the Phoenix? The fire-user… wasn't exactly stable, a fact that he himself was bitterly aware of. Did that self-awareness mean he was crazy or not crazy?

Clarity and trust came in waves, riding in and pulling away at random without rhyme or reason. Sometimes Ace could not bear to burden Marco any more than he already had, feeling selfish and stupid and remorseful for keeping the Commander here when he was only one of the many brothers the man had to look out for. He shoved the Phoenix away during those episodes in an attempt to make him leave, refusing to 'talk' to him and only responding with scathing notes and angry glowers that hid a desperate plea to not be left alone.

At other points he did not even realize Marco was there, or forgot that the Phoenix was actually a person and not a nightmare conjured up by the sand. Despite initial appearances, Ace had so little control in the dreams that he had become used to things happening without him, and as such usually just traveled through each dream like an unhappy spectator. Conversations would turn sour, bad things would happen, unlucky coincidences would unfold, and all of it would occur without the fire-user doing a thing.

As such, Ace's gained habit to ignore things and act like he— and others— did not exist or matter resulted in more than one awkward occurrence where he would completely brush off Marco without warning and not respond to him at all. It was only after a few minutes or even hours that Ace would recall that this was the real Marco and interactions with him were happening in reality, which meant things had lasting effects and he was being rather rude. It was so confusing.

The Phoenix always understood, somehow.

Other times words flowed onto the page easily, with Ace revealing his every thought and fear only to belatedly realize with horror that the Phoenix was real and the revelations were now shared with him forever. The fire-user usually slipped back into panicked mistrust and self-loathing again after that.

At least he never revealed that he was a Spirit during those uncontrolled bouts of openness. Ace would not be able to handle it if he did.

And yet  _somehow_  Marco did not run out of patience. Somehow, he did not become frustrated or disgusted with Ace's swaying mood, outbursts, and wavering trust. Say what you would about pirates, but the Commander was a freaking saint in the fire-user's opinion. Ace really did not deserve the Phoenix's help and attention. Marco was just wasting his valuable time on something worthless. The fire-user made sure to keep that sentiment to himself though.

Ace drew a few snowflakes on the paper, carefully constructing five unique shapes. He also outlined a top hat and straw hat, taking care to fill in the top hat with blue ink. The pictures made him smile a little, and he added a little moon in the corner of the page along with a small fairy. He blinked and noticed Marco was in a different position than he had been, leaning forward with the report sitting on the tabletop. The look he gave the fire-user was not expectant, but why else would he be staring unless he was waiting for something from Ace?

" _Were we still talking?"_  the Summer Spirit wrote guiltily.  _"Did I zone out again? How long?"_

"Yes. Another hour. But it's all right, yoi." Marco said soothingly.

_Sorry_ , Ace thought but kept off the page.

The Phoenix always got sad or insisted that it was unnecessary if he apologized. He went back to sketching snowflakes, putting a rabbit over by the side. Ace paused and looked at Marco again.

_Was I still supposed to say more? Sorry._  Ace did not want to write it, and desperately searched for a new topic of conversation so that Marco would know the fire-user cared about his attention, he  _really did_.  _"Did I meet the others yet?"_

"They were on the deck with you before the storm, but the only ones you've interacted with were me, Thatch, Haruta, and Izo." The Phoenix said.

Ace squinted at him.  _"Jozu broke my leg?"_

"Not real, yoi." Marco confirmed.

The fire-user considered his words.  _"Haruta yelled at me?"_

"Real."

Ace frowned.  _"I already asked that, didn't I?"_

"Yes, you did."

_Sorry._ The Summer Spirit's attention shifted, like it so often did as of late.  _"You have other duties."_

Marco gestured at his pile of papers. "I can fulfill them here, you."

" _But this isn't all that you do. You have chores around the ship. You_ _—"_  Ace crossed out the entire thing.  _"We already talked about this too?"_

"Real. We did, yoi." The Phoenix confirmed gently.

Ace wanted to explode, that stupid calm look on his face making the fire-user want to punch him. Marco had to be faking it. It was impossible for him to be so kind. It had to be an act. It had to be. He had to be irritated, or mocking Ace internally, or waiting for him to relax in order to break him. Just like Marco had so many times before.

_How can he be so_ _**damn** _ _patient? I'm just wasting his time and repeating things like a fucking moron. He has other people to look out for. He doesn't need to ditch them all for me. I don't deserve his attention. Maybe if I snap at him he'll go away?_

Ace's expression shifted into a glower, but Marco spoke before he could put the pen to the page.

"Don't try it, Ace. Throwing a tantrum won't convince me to leave, yoi." He said warningly.

The wording fueled Ace's anger and he grasped it, reaching over and shoving the pile of sorted papers from the table. He watched them slide to the floor in a jumbled mess, and just like that the immature fury was snuffed out, replaced by fear. The fire-user dove off the bed and knelt next to the fallen sheets, fumbling with them as he tried to decipher which was meant to be sorted where.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,_ he thought. _He's been working for hours and I ruined it. Fucking immature_ _ **idiot**_ _._

The black sand beckoned. Ace ignored it. His fingers twitched.

The words blurred on the reports and Ace threw them back down in frustration before pulling his knees to his chest and covering his head. Marco had not moved from his chair, watching the fire-user with glazed eyes. Ace caught sight of his marked arms, reached up, and grabbed his notebook. He drew short lines on the page so hard that the pen ripped through the top paper. The Phoenix still said nothing.

_Is he finally going to leave me? "_ _I'm sorry_ _."_ He wrote, then scribbled over it.

_No, idiot!_ He berated himself. _You_ _ **want**_ _him to go away, remember?_

Marco breathed out slowly. "You  _don't_  have to apologize. You've been through a lot, yoi."

" _I know I'm broken, but that's not an excuse."_  Ace scribed, a snarl forming on his face.  _"I'm being a brat."_   _ **Hate me**_ _, damn you!_

Of  _course_  his eyes were stinging.

"You're not bro—" the Phoenix began, then sighed. "I'm not going to abandon you, yoi. You can't  _make_  me abandon you. I know you're going to try again anyway, but I'm here to stay."

" _You'll get annoyed eventually."_  Ace predicted viciously.  _"You might as well leave now."_

"No." Marco stated simply.

The fire-user blinked, vision blurred by unshed tears.  _"Why are you helping me? And don't say it's because you love me. You don't."_

"I do love you." The Phoenix insisted. "You're my younger brother, yoi."

Ace did not understand. He could not understand. How could Marco claim that? Even without the Nightmare-Marcos haunting the fire-user's memory, how could the Phoenix say he cared about and wanted to fix the irreparable mess Ace had become?

" _I don't need you."_  The fire-user wrote harshly, forced anger in his every stroke.

"Then what do you need?" Marco questioned with that irritating infinite patience.

Ace honestly considered his words.  _"Jack."_ he wrote.

The fire-user stared at the wet spots that formed on the paper in surprise. He clenched his teeth and brushed away the tears, banishing the remainder and refusing to let them free. His hand moved without his permission again.

" _Jack never hurt me. Luffy did. Sabo did. Whitebeard did. You did. I can't trust you. I'm sorry."_

He immediately regretted writing the sentiments he swore to keep under wraps, but they were out in the open for the Phoenix to see. It was too late to take them back. What was the purpose of his anger again? Ace could not remember, and the fury drained away, leaving a tiredness that made him want to pinch himself to ensure he stayed awake.

"I understand." Marco said calmly, and  _damn him_  he actually did. "I know I'm not the person closest to you. I know you and Jack have a special bond I cannot hope to compete with. We'll try to find him for you. Oyaji is already searching for signs of Jack, and Sabo and Luffy. But in the meantime I'm still going to help you. I'm going to help you and stay with you because you deserve it and I care about you and I want to see you be happy. And I'm going to make sure you believe that one day."

Ace was too tired to argue, but he could not go to sleep.  _"I don't know what I'm doing."_  he told Marco.

The Phoenix gave a low, shaky chuckle. "That's all right. I don't know either. But we'll figure it out. Together."

Ace did and did not believe him.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack was honestly surprised the ship had not caught on fire yet. Not due to further complications in the vessel, but because of the twitchy, panicking Fire Logia that was pacing across the deck. Sabo was moving back and forth with such riled intensity the Guardian would not be shocked if he wore through the deck and fell into the depths of the boat. Which would then catch on fire.

As amusing as that would be, causing more damage to the ship would only worsen the Revolutionary's mood, so Jack pushed away from his position leaning against the mast and grabbed Sabo as he passed. The blonde man nearly turned to flames in his hold, but thought better of it and let the Winter Spirit stop him. It was a good thing the Guardian had the foresight to cover his hand with ice, otherwise he would have been burned. Jack kept a firm grip on Sabo's coat.

"Calm. Down." He ordered firmly. "You aren't helping Luffy like this."

"I know." Sabo said harshly, the words accompanied by a spurt of flames from his mouth. "I  _know_. We're stuck, Jack!"

"So I've been told." The Guardian replied dryly. "But turning the ship into kindling is not going to help us get to Luffy and Ace."

"I know." The Revolutionary repeated. "Hack called for another of our ships to pick us up, but they won't be here for  _days_. Luffy will be back with Pitch by then!"

"Panicking isn't going to help anyone." Jack said calmly, feeling all of his three hundred plus years. "Instead of worrying about things out of our control, how about we try to adapt and make a new plan, okay?"

"How can you  _still_  be so calm?" Sabo demanded. "Have you forgotten who Luffy is going to face?"

Jack's mind flashed back to mocking laughter and a sharp pain in his chest. His grip on his staff tightened. "Trust me, I know how dangerous Pitch is. But you're letting your fear overcome you. If you're going to face Pitch with me, you can't let that happen."

The Revolutionary gritted his teeth and exhaled slowly. He took off his top hat and began spinning it in his hands. "Right. Okay. Why? Will I be unable to harm Pitch if I'm afraid?"

"Most likely." Jack revealed. "Trust me, we'll need your flames. His Nightmares are made of sand, so they turn to glass if you hit them with a hot enough fire. Ace was able to do it easily when we fought him."

Sabo blinked. "Ace still has fire— Oh, right. Summer Spirit. I… forgot…"

The Revolutionary grew quiet, a forlorn expression crossing his face. His lit his hand on fire, staring at the flickering orange flames for a moment.

"…Do you think he'll be angry at me?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" Jack asked, hearing the question but not understanding the reason for it.

"I couldn't save Ace. I wasn't there." Sabo whispered guiltily. "And now I'm not there for Luffy." He paled dramatically. "What if I fail  _both_  this time?"

"We'll make it in time." Jack stated. "And Ace would never be mad at you. Well, a couple years ago he might have punched you in the face for not showing yourself, but now he'll understand you had your reasons."

Sabo gave a low chuckle. "That's right. He didn't reveal himself either. Our reunion is probably going to be a brawl once things calm down."

Blue eyes continued to study the flames solemnly, and the Guardian began to suspect the reason for the Revolutionary's melancholy.

_Does he feel like…?_

"You know, out of all the people that could have gotten Ace's fruit, I'm glad it was you." Jack said warmly and casually, meaning every word.

Sabo looked stunned before he smiled widely, face lighting up. "You don't know how much that means to me." His voice shook slightly. "Thanks."

Jack nodded. "Like I said, you'll be a big help when we fight Pitch. Make sure not to rely on intangibility though. Spirits can hit Logia with their powers. That's how I fought Smokey."

"I'll remember." Sabo promised. "I haven't had the Mera Mera for long, so I still tend to block or dodge instead of letting attacks go through."

The Guardian grinned slyly. "Oh really…?"

He made a snowball and chucked it at the Revolutionary. Sabo yelped at it hit him in the face and shattered into glimmering crystals, then gave a startled laugh.

"Jack—!"

The Winter Spirit's next projectiles struck his chest and nose, and the Logia spluttered indignantly.

"Training time. Learn to dodge!" Jack crowed, throwing five more snowballs at Sabo. Three hit. "You're doing even worse than you did when you were a kid."

"I'm out of practice." The Revolutionary defended, blocking the next five snowballs with his pipe. The sixth one struck his cheek. " _Damn it, Jack!_  This isn't fair!"

"You're a Fire Logia.  _Melt them_." The Guardian teased. "Or is the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionaries too mature to have fun?"

Jack summoned a heap of snow and let it fall on Sabo, who took his advice and melted it before it could bury him. The Revolutionary dodged another snowball, running for the Winter Spirit, but Jack leapt off the deck and perched on the mast, smirking down at the blonde Logia. With a burst of flame, Sabo followed him, hovering next to the Guardian.

Jack poked him between the eyes. "Tag. You're it."

The Winter Spirit leapt away. Sabo gave an indignant squawk and chased after the Guardian, who darted lithely about the sky and ship, careful not to go out above the water. The blonde man would probably try to follow him, and the last thing Jack wanted was for him to fall into the ocean.

Jack laughed aloud as the Revolutionary frantically dodged his next barrage of snowballs, which nearly hit Koala and Hack as they went out onto the deck. The Guardian shouted an apology at the startled Revolutionaries.

"Sorry!"

Sabo took the opportunity to tackle him from behind, but Jack was stronger than he looked and stayed airborne instead of plummeting to the deck like the Logia predicted. The Winter Spirit snickered at the Revolutionary's expression, keeping them both aloft easily with the man clinging awkwardly to his waist.

"What? Did you think I couldn't lift— That's it!"

The Winter Spirit's sudden exclamation made Sabo release him in shock. The blonde Logia descended to the deck with a thud, forgetting to turn into flames to cushion his fall. He grimaced for a moment, then looked up at the excited Guardian that hovered in front of his face.

"What is it?" Sabo asked warily.

"I can get you to Luffy." Jack said eagerly.

"What?" Koala said flatly as she and Hack came up beside them.

" _I'll_  get you to Luffy." Jack repeated, landing on the deck before the three Revolutionaries. "That way we don't have to wait for the other ship."

"How would  _that_  work?" the orange-haired woman spluttered.

"Could you really?" Sabo asked instead, looking taken by the idea. He eyed Jack critically. "How?"

The Guardian waved his hand dismissively. "I carried you when we had to escape those villagers. It was only difficult because I was holding you weird. If you were in a sling or on something I could pull over the water, I'm sure I could do it." His eyes gleamed. "I could make an ice boat."

"Please tell me you aren't considering this." Koala pleaded with her partner.

Sabo ignored her, eyes shining. "An ice boat is unnecessary. Maybe we can use one of the smaller vessels. How quickly can you fly?"

"I'd say about two hundred miles per hour pulling you two." Jack estimated. "Safely, of course. Koala, can you use Armament Haki?"

"Y-Yes." She said. "But I don't think this is a good idea."

"It's a great idea." Sabo denied. "Why does she need Haki though?"

"Bugs and birds." Jack said simply. "They usually avoid me because I can freeze them, but it would suck to run into one at two hundred miles per hour."

Koala stared. "Won't you get tired?" she tried.

Jack was deeply insulted. "This trip will be nothing. I herd Winter around Earth all the time, and sometimes have to go from one side of a continent to the other in a day. Sometimes I spend  _weeks_  in the sky maintaining the storms. You should have seen the Blizzard of '68. Besides, at our speed I bet this trip will only take a day or two, tops. Luffy can't be too far from us. And I can just land on the boat if I get tired."

"But what about supplies?" the orange-haired Revolutionary offered hopefully.

"We'll bring enough for a few days." Sabo decided, already impatient to get moving. "Worse comes to worst, we'll stop at an island."

Hack had already scurried off and packed two good-sized bags, handing them to the determined Sabo and stunned Koala.

"I'll stay here and wait for assistance." The Fishman said calmly. "That will give Jack less weight to pull."

"…This is never going to work." Koala moaned.

"You don't have to come." Sabo offered gently.

The orange-haired woman's eyes hardened. "You're not leaving me behind."

They eventually settled on taking one of the sturdier dinghies, with Jack tying thick ropes to the front and around his waist.

"Bunny would be making jokes about me being a reindeer right now," he commented. "Ready?"

Sabo nodded and grinned. Koala clung to the boat, face pale. Jack chuckled and called on the Wind, who grabbed the Winter Spirit eagerly and took off. The humans jolted backward as the boat shot forward, the little vessel almost skipping over the waves as they sped over the water, leaving white foam in their wake. Both Revolutionaries grabbed their hats to keep them from blowing away, the stranded ship quickly disappearing behind them.

"Pretty fun, right?" Jack shouted above the wind.

Sabo laughed.

Koala screamed.


	16. Rebuilding Trust

Tooth could not shake the feeling that the Guardians should not be here. There was nothing obviously wrong with the island they had traveled to, yet she could not help but feel like every villager they passed was watching them even though none of the humans could currently see the three Spirits.

The brightly-colored Fairy, tall Pooka, and jolly Cossack were out in the open, standing at the side of the street as the native inhabitants moved around them. So far no one had even looked at them yet, and the Guardian of Memories was not exactly keen on making their— or specifically her— presence known.

"Are we sure about this?" Tooth murmured.

"Not on your Nelly." Bunny said. "But that article is the best lead we got on Frostbite."

A few days before while making a trip through one of the busier cities in order to find some food, the Guardians had stumbled upon a newspaper stand and spotted the first solid hint they had having to do with Jack's possible location. The article Bunny noticed had woven a tale of fear and mistrust, stating the town had been attacked by 'Winter Spirit' Jackson Overland Frost and two 'Revolutionaries' before going on to say how careless someone named Whitebeard must be for not defending the place from 'Frost's menace'.

The news had infuriated Tooth as much as it excited her, because even if the information was false— Jack would  _never_  attack people— it would be strange for the newspaper to just pull a story like that out of the blue, so pieces of it must be fact. It was more than they had found since arriving on this world, anyway.

So here the Guardians were, on the little island from the paper that was defended by 'Whitebeard'— She recognized that name from somewhere…— hoping beyond hope that they could get something they could use to find Jack. Or Baby Tooth. Or Ace. Or even Pitch.

North patted Tooth on the shoulder, giving her an easy grin. "Are you ready, Tooth? Remember, no punching Marines this time."

The Fairy turned red at the memory but straightened her shoulders, giving the Guardian of Wonder a piercing glare. "You would have done the same thing and you know it."

The Cossack gave one of his belly-laughs, not denying her statement. "Maybe. Do you think that you will be able to control yourself?"

His tone was teasing and Tooth huffed, feathers ruffled. "I will. I don't understand why  _I_  have to talk to people again though."

She always felt strange when she had to talk to human adults. Tooth was by no means shy, but there were certain social norms and standards that adults followed that the Guardian of Memories did not fully understand, and so she felt odd when having to use them. The only time she felt comfortable was when she talked about children or teeth, and not all adults liked to converse about such things— especially not teeth, to her disappointment.

"They seem to be able to see you easier than us." Bunny pointed out for the thousandth time. "Maybe it's because they believe in memories more than wonder or hope here?" He flattened his ears and gave an unsatisfied grunt. "I swear this world's Spirit-seeing system is bonkers…"

Tooth could not argue with his complaint. In all the towns she and the others had visited, North had been seen two times and Bunny had only been spotted once, while she was seen most of the time. She did not understand why, having formerly believed that North would be the most-easily spotted because he looked the most human, but Bunny might be going somewhere with his idea that the humans had a greater capacity for trusting memories rather than hope or wonder in this dangerous world.

She debated between heading to the newsstand on this side of the street or approaching another shopkeeper to try to gain some information. Deciding that a townsperson would likely have more truthful information about Jack and what happened with him here, the Guardian of Memories began walking towards the first vendor she spotted.

Tooth did not expect to instantaneously slam into another person in the middle of the road. She and the human stumbled away from each other after their collison, with the Fairy awkwardly catching the man by his elbow in an attempt to prevent him from falling to the ground. After a bout of undignified flailing, she and the human righted themselves. They stared at each other for a moment, sporting near-mirrored expressions of surprise, before both fell back a step.

The first thing Tooth noticed was that the man looked tired. His clothes were rumpled, his hair was a mess, his beard and mustache were unkempt, and dark smudges marked the areas under his eyes, giving him a sallow look. He had the appearance of someone who had not slept for days, and was far past the point of caring about his own health.

The Guardian's heart immediately softened with compassion.

"Sorry." The man said in a low, exhausted voice. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's all right. I wasn't either." She said gently. "Are you… okay?"

"Fine, fine." The man said airily even though he blatantly was not. He cleared his throat. "You're not from around here. Do you need directions or something?"

Tooth took a breath. "No. I just need information. I heard Jack Frost was spotted here a few weeks ago. I—" She stumbled over her words before deciding to keep to her mostly-true story from her last interactions with humans. "My daughter is missing."

The man's eyes went round before they softened with sympathy— and understanding? "I see. That's brave of you, going out to find her." His gaze grew glassy. "My daughter disappeared too, along with three other children on the island."

"Oh." Tooth blinked, eyes stinging.

She rubbed her hand across her face, struggling not to let her emotions get the best of her. If the man's daughter had vanished, it was likely Pitch had taken her. And unlike with Baby Tooth, the girl's chances of still being herself were tragically slim…

"We call my little one B.T." Tooth murmured to distract herself, mind drifting. "She's a gentle, a tiny little thing, but adventurous and strong. If someone insulted her loved ones, she'd be the first one to defend them. Not that she would pick fights, but she cares so deeply for her friends…"

The Guardian cut herself off, feathers drooping more with every word. An ache formed in her chest as she acknowledged how much she missed Baby Tooth and Jack, fearing for their safety in this world and just wanting them back at her side. And yet, at least she had a glimmer of hope that they were unharmed.

"What about your daughter?" she asked.

The man chuckled, gaze brightening the slightest bit. "Her name is Moda. She's quite the dreamer. She would always write stories and plays, then act them out just for her mother and I. One day she went to gather shells to use as props for her latest tale and…" He blinked rapidly, expression clouding. "…she never came back."

"I'm sorry." Tooth choked on the words, feeling awful for not being able to prevent the girl's disappearance even though it was impossible for her to even know she existed.

The father gave her a sad smile. "Thank you. We— The other parents and I— we're trying to contact Whitebeard to see if he can send anyone to help search for them. It will take a while, but when they come I can tell them about B.T., too."

The name 'Whitebeard' still sounded familiar, but Tooth could not place where she had heard it before.

"Thank you." She said sincerely. "I'm sure they're all right. I have to believe the children are okay."

The Guardian could not allow herself to think about the lives possibly lost to Pitch yet. If she did she would be overwhelmed, falling into despair and becoming trapped in the past as she wondered what she could have done differently to save them. In the last battles with Pitch, the Guardians had managed to keep the death tolls comparatively low on Earth when the Nightmare King had attacked. That had mostly been thanks to Sandy's involvement and Pitch's imperfect, slow, and more personal Fearling-creation system.

Now Pitch had the ability to make thousands of Fearlings at once, and his army of Nightmares was growing bigger by the day. Which was why the Guardians needed to find and stop him as soon as possible. Find him, find Jack, save Ace, and try to fight Pitch even though the gap between their powers was most likely astronomical…

_It does not help that people fear Jack because they think he's a monster_ , Tooth thought miserably, then shook her head stubbornly.

"I have to find Jack Frost." She determinedly said the words aloud, momentarily forgetting her audience.

"I wish I had the same conviction as you." The man said, misunderstanding the reason for her firmness. "I'm afraid I don't have much information to give you. Frost and two Revolutionaries showed up on the island a couple weeks ago. We thought we chased them off, but soon after kids started going missing. Twelve have vanished by now."

Tooth's fist clenched, her sadness at the news and anger at Pitch building in her chest. The Guardian of Memories glanced around at North and Bunny, who were still unseen by the wall. They met her gaze, with the Cossack raising his eyebrows. Both looked visibly upset. The Pooka no doubt was hearing the entire conversation and had relayed it to North.

A part of her wanted to shout at the man and tell him the truth, that he was wrong and Jack was not to blame for the missing children, but it was not like she could… could she?

"I've heard… rumors." Tooth began hesitantly. "…rumors that it isn't Frost who has been kidnapping children."

The man grew alert, staring at her intently. "Who is it then?"

"I'm not exactly sure," the Guardian partially lied. "But I heard he has control of these… shadow creatures. Some look like black horses, others look like humanoid monsters made of darkness."

She was wary of revealing Pitch's name, worrying that such an act would give the Spirit of Fear more believers— and more power. Seeing the man's intense stare— he was engaged, not angry or mistrustful— Tooth decided to take a chance.

She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I saw one, you know. One of the Nightmares— the black horses. I tried to chase it, but it vanished into the shadows."

The man's brow furrowed. "So you're saying that the World Government might be using Frost as a scapegoat?" His eyes narrowed into a hateful glower. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Tooth paused before recalling that apparently Whitebeard was a pirate, so the people under his protection might not like the Marines. "Perhaps." She said vaguely. "Either way, Frost is involved. Is there anything you can tell me to help me find him?"

The man shrugged. "Like I said, he was seen with two Revolutionaries. They escaped on a boat and were headed west if I'm not mistaken. According to the papers— and their information is sketchy at best— snowstorms tend to follow Frost so it might help if you look for strange weather patterns. Then again, this is the New World so the weather is weird by itself most of the time."

Tooth smiled sincerely at the man. " _Thank you_  so much. This is— This is more than I've gotten from anyone. Thank you."

The man hesitated, then smiled back tiredly. "You're welcome. Just… If you find the kids, could you look for my Moda as well?"

"Of course." Tooth promised, refusing to think about the low likelihood of the girl's survival.

It might be possible that Pitch had merely captured the girl. If she was a dreamer, she may have powerful nightmares, and the Spirit of Fear might want to keep her to keep creating those creatures. The chances were slim, but there was still a  _chance_.

Tooth bade him farewell and made her way back towards the other Guardians. A flash of turquoise caught her eye and she lingered in the street, focusing on it.

"Oh my."

Tooth did not intend to let loose the soft exclamation, but the control over her voice abandoned her as she spotted the poster placed prominently on a newsstand.

The poster that sported a drawn picture of  _her_.

' _Fairy Queen' Toothiana_

_Wanted Dead or Alive_

_Reward: 150,000,000 Beri_

Suddenly, the town did not seem so safe anymore.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace had been awake for a full seventy-two hours. Marco had been awake for who knew how long. Any attempts to make the Phoenix go take a nap had failed, and the fire-user was beginning to entertain the thought of knocking the stubborn man unconscious. Bay would probably help, if her sidelong glances at the First Division Commander were of any indication.

It was all-too easy for Ace to pretend the doctor did not exist as she looked him over, preferring a blatant, rude dismissal of her presence and questions to the anxiety that her closeness would bring. Marco had been nice enough to delay Bay for as long as he could, but the fire-user's obvious discomfort at the mention of medical professionals had been unable to keep her away forever.

Like it or not, Ace was Bay's patient and in need of checkups. And the fire-user was definitively in the 'or not' category. The only reason he was allowing Bay anywhere near him was because Marco had asked, claiming that he wanted to make sure Ace was okay— and didn't that sound familiar?

" _This is for your own good, Ace." Not-Marco said soothingly as Not-Bay drove a scalpel into Ace's eye, smiling gently as he writhed and bled. "I just want to make sure you feel better."_

It was hard not to look at Bay and remember all the times 'she' had hurt him. It was hard not to hear Marco's proclamations of concern about Ace's wellbeing and think they were fake.

So the fire-user put up an impassive front, gazing at the walls or drawing in his notebook as he did his best to ignore Bay. She had tried to gain his attention at first, but a few words from Marco had stopped her attempts, and she went about her business without comment. It did not help that every touch and prod still made Ace feel ill, though he did his best to hide it. If he showed he was capable, Marco might go to sleep. He should not be neglecting his own health for Ace.

_Hide it. Repress._

He did his best not to notice Bay probing his side, tracing the black streaks that marked the former placement of the wound that resulted in his current condition. Even with his determination, the touches still hurt. Ace winced, shying away from the contact.

Bay withdrew, looking at Marco. "The laceration has healed completely. Other than the black substance that  _you refuse to tell me more about_  and his throat, I'd say Ace has a clean bill of health."

"Can he leave the infirmary yet, yoi?" The Phoenix asked unrepentantly.

Ace wondered if they thought he was not listening. Although wasn't that what he was trying to do? Not listen? It might be better for him if he was not. Perhaps he was not as good at disassociating as he thought.

The Summer Spirit's vision blurred and his eyelids grew heavy but he shook his head, clenching his hands and digging his nails into his palms. The small burst of pain cleared Ace's tired mind and when he focused again, Marco and Bay were looking at him expectantly.

" _What was that?"_  Ace wrote out of politeness more than interest.

"Bay has to look at your throat now." The Phoenix explained as if he had not done so just a few seconds ago.

The fire-user unhappily turned to the doctor, who remained unbothered by her patient's wariness.

"Your vocal cords were put under a lot of stress, and I just want to see how they're healing." She said soothingly. "I swear I just need to look at and feel your throat a little. There won't be anything invasive."

Ace wondered if she was asking for permission or this was just another thing out of his control, but nodded anyway. Bay reached for his neck and the fire-user instinctively tucked his chin, covering the vulnerable spot.

The doctor let her hands fall to her sides and sighed. "Ace…"

"How about she looks first, yoi?" Marco interrupted. "No touching."

Ace forced his lips to smile acceptingly and nodded. He obediently opened his mouth, staring up past Bay' head instead of at the doctor as she leaned in front of him with a light. Keeping her promise, she did not attempt to stick anything down his throat, merely taking in what she could spot through vision alone.

"Still swollen." Bay murmured. "In fact, it seems to be more inflamed then before." She looked to Marco. "Has he been screaming?"

The First Division Commander went to answer, reconsidered the question, and frowned. "Not aloud, but I've noticed him thrashing and opening his mouth in his sleep. Now that I think about it, it's almost like he's trying to make noise but can't…" The Phoenix trailed off, looking centuries older than he should.

Ace snapped his fingers to gain their attention and quickly jotted down a sentence in his notebook, showing it to the somber man.  _"It's not your fault. You can't stop the nightmares. Don't be ridiculous."_

Marco gave a low, humorless chuckle. "I'm aware of that. That won't stop me from worrying, yoi."

"No wonder his vocal cords haven't been healing. They haven't been given time to rest. His body keeps instinctively trying to use them when he's asleep." Bay spoke almost to herself, drumming her fingers on her leg. She paused and then continued reluctantly, looking at her patient. "At this rate, you may lose your voice permanently."

Ace did not write a word. He stared at the wall and forced his fingers to loosen around the blue pen so he did not break it, but other than that he could not conjure a reaction. For a moment, he considered that he may be in another elaborate nightmare, but immediately sneered at himself for his overreaction. All things considered, possibly being mute for the rest of his immortal life was not the worst thing that could happen.

The fire-user distantly heard Bay ask something and nodded without hearing the question. It was inconsequential if he agreed or not with what she said. She would do what she wanted anyway. Ace stayed lost in his thoughts, struggling to come to terms with yet another bombshell that had been dumped on him. His throat strained and he swallowed rapidly, each gulp causing his vocal cords to ache.

_Stop that. It's not that bad. It_ _**isn't** _ _. So what if I might never be able to talk again? At least I'm awake, and alive. I should be grateful I'm as okay as I am. If it weren't for Mother Nature's failsafe, I'd be Pitch's slave by now. Be happy that—_

Something stabbed his throat, a thin dagger sinking into his jugular.

Ace barely registered the pain before he reeled back, jerking out of Bay's reach and nearly crashing to the floor. Marco caught him with practiced ease and again the Summer Spirit felt a blade, this time in his shoulders where the man grabbed him. The fire-user struggled in his hold, right hand clasping at his neck, while the other tried to pry the Phoenix's arms away from his body.

_N-No._

His mind could not form coherent thoughts, a panicked, unending wail overtaking all semblance of lucidity. Ace could not be in a nightmare. It was impossible. He had not fallen asleep. He was  _certain_  he hadn't.

When Ace withdrew his right hand from his neck, he was stunned to find there was no crimson on his fingertips. When he inhaled, he was shocked that he could breathe without the accompanying gurgle that meant he was choking on his own blood.

Ace swore Bay and Marco had stabbed him. He had felt the familiar cold sharpness of metal slitting his jugular, a sensation he was used to having 'died' to it so many times before. Yet the doctor was frozen before him, looking at him in confusion with her empty hands held up peacefully.

The low buzzing in Ace's ears became Marco's voice, and words slowly formed out of the jumble of sounds that had overcome the fire-user's senses.

"—safe! This is real, Ace. You're awake. You're safe!" the Phoenix almost shouted.

Ace's chest heaved and his heartbeat gradually slowed. The fire-user fumbled out of Marco's hold, perching back on the bed and staring at the two Whitebeard Pirates with round eyes. Realizing how defenseless he looked, Ace schooled his expression into its default apathy setting. The Phoenix's calm expression faltered for the barest second but he reigned in his own emotions.

"Ace—"

" _Oh._ " Bay gasped softly, silencing Marco. She met Ace's eyes, her own filled with compassion— or was it pity? "I'm so sorry, Ace." She murmured. "I should have realized sooner…" She cleared her throat and smoothed out her skirt, sitting down so she no longer towered over her patient. "Do you know what tactile sensitivity and sensory defensiveness are?"

The fire-user warily shook his head.

"Tactile sensitivity is where a person reacts adversely to stimuli that are normally non-painful. Sensory defensiveness is a negative reaction to certain sensations, such as touch." Bay told him concisely. "Sometimes they are a side-effect of certain medical conditions, but they can also be caused by traumatic events. You feel pain when we touch you, don't you?"

Ace nodded cautiously. Her words bounced around his head, bewildering but also strangely uplifting. There was a reason for it hurting when people touched him. The fire-user had not even considered such a possibility, blaming his own fears for his issues with physical contact. To be informed that might not be the case… it was almost heartwarming.

Bay picked up her own notebook and jotted something down. "Could you describe it?"

The fire-user retrieved his pen and glanced uncertainly at Marco, who nodded encouragingly.

" _Sometimes it feels like I'm being burned or stabbed."_ Ace wrote.  _"Other times I just feel sick to my stomach and contact makes my skin crawl."_

"Nausea." Bay muttered lowly as she made more notes. She set her book on the table and smiled at the fire-user. "Thank you for telling me this."

She looked sincerely happy about his admissions. Ace did not get it. That did not stop the slight warmth in his chest as her gratefulness.

" _You're welcome."_  He wrote, making sure not to put a question mark at the end of the statement.

Ace blinked lethargically and rubbed at his eyes. He scooched away from the headboard of the bed, sitting up under his own power to ensure he did not relax too much. The fire-user drew a couple swirls and snowflakes next to the latest sentence, then flipped to a clean page and sketched a pirate ship. He was working on the sail when he belatedly realized Bay was talking to Marco.

"...recommend tea with honey and other warm liquids to help soothe his throat. Tell Thatch. Ace can leave the infirmary if he wishes, but make sure he does not spend too much time breathing cold air. That can irritate his vocal cords even more. Make sure no one smokes around him as well. And I know it will be difficult, but try not to touch him. Even a hand on his shoulder will feel like shards of glass. Let him initiate contact, all right?"

"Understood, yoi." Marco replied willingly.

Bay gathered up her equipment and made to leave the room, pausing in the doorway. "And get some sleep, would you? You look like shit."

The Phoenix gave a startled laugh at her language, but before he could respond the doctor was gone. Ace's lips twitched at Marco's expression. He stopped drawing and stared pointedly at the First Division Commander, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"I told you before and I'll say it again. I'm not going to sleep and leave you by yourself." The Phoenix grimaced, unable to hold back a yawn.

" _I can't sleep because of the sand. You don't have that problem. You need to rest."_  The words were scrawled impatiently across the page.

Marco sighed. "Let me worry about you, not the other way around, yoi."

" _But you worrying about me and not sleeping is making me worry about you."_  Ace scribed.  _"If you take a nap I'll be happy."_

Ace was mostly certain that was true. As much as he did not wish to be alone— while simultaneously not feeling ready to meet the other Whitebeard Pirates yet— the fire-user wanted Marco to be healthy and happy. Not only because the Phoenix was his friend and one of the best people he knew, but because he deserved a break from fretting over Ace.

"That's manipulative." Marco pointed out wearily but without malice as he read.

Ace frowned at him.  _"Fine. I'll be direct then. Sleep or I'll knock you out."_

A part of him waited nervously for the Phoenix's response to his threat, but most of the fire-user refused to back down or regret his promise of violence. Marco did not laugh, but he did not seem to be angry either.

"Do you really think you are capable of that?" he asked curiously.

Ace was uncertain whether the grin he gave the Phoenix was mischievous or unhinged.  _"Watch me."_

Marco put his hands up placatingly. "All right, yoi. Wake me up if anything happens."

_I think I'll get Bay instead so I don't have to wake you_ , Ace thought as he watched the Phoenix settle more comfortably in his chair. The fire-user paused and analyzed his thoughts.  _I'd be willing to get her… Does that mean I trust Bay? I think I do. A little at least. How did that happen?_

Ace did not care. He watched Marco relax, his breathing evening out. The fire-user glanced at his sheet and shrugged before throwing it over the Phoenix. The blond-haired man did not even twitch, proving just how exhausted he had been.

It was very quiet. Ace did not allow himself to sink into his thoughts and muse about the past like he so often did since he woke. His eyes grew heavy but he forced them open. The fire-user considered getting up and walking around, but did not want to disturb Marco. Instead he drew more snowflakes, a top hat, and a straw hat. He looked at the images and set down the pen, tracing each one with his forefinger.

_I should ask about my brothers. I think Marco said the Whitebeard Pirates were trying to find them. I should ask for any information they have._

His stomach twisted at the thought, old fears threatening to creep to the surface and drown him.

_I want to see them again. I do. But what if…? No. Don't think about this now. If I think about it, I'll freak out and that could wake Marco. Breathe. I'm fine. I'm_ _**fine** _ _._

Ace closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically.

His eyes slid open.

He was not in the infirmary anymore.

He was in an alleyway.

_Oh no. Nightmare._ _**I fell asleep** _ _._

Ace did not give himself time to panic or wonder how he got there. He had to leave the nightmare quickly before anything could go wrong. The fire-user curled up tighter behind the dumpster he leaned against, nose wrinkling at the smell. Before Ace could fall asleep— attempt to wake up—hands gripped him, yanking him roughly out of the safety of his hiding spot. He looked up to see three large, unfamiliar men, all who stared at him with a mixture of disgust and fear.

"I found it! I found the demon!" the one holding him shouted.

Ace did not fight his captor but the other two men grabbed him anyway, pulling him into the street. His skin grew scraped and wept blood as he was dragged over the sharp stones and into a mob. The crowd swarmed around them, some brandishing clubs, stones, sticks, and pitchforks. Others wielded more deadly items; swords, spears, even the occasional gun.

Weapons meant to harm. Weapons meant to maim. Weapons meant to kill.

The fire-user was surprisingly calm.

_It's not real. Remember it's not real. I was on the Moby Dick. I was with Marco. I'm safe._

The men released him and backed away, merging with the swarm. Ace did not try to run. He knelt in the street as the crowd closed around him, the people hurling insults and shouting threats at the monster they had captured.

"Demon!"

"Look at it. It's cursed!"

"Freak!"

"Go back to Hell!"

"Monster!"

Ace detachedly wondered if they hated him because he was Roger's son or because of his appearance in this nightmare. He supposed the answer was trivial. The nightmare would go on without him, and seeking answers would not stop the mob.

_Not real. It isn't real._

Someone threw a stone.

It struck Ace in the temple, knocking him to the ground, and like the attack was a signal the crowd converged on the fire-user. He sank into an apathetic haze as the mob beat him, spears, bats, and other weapons striking without mercy. Bones broke, skin tore, hair was pulled, and his right eye swelled shut, but Ace barely cringed, curling into a ball.

Something— a bat?— hit his head. Once twice thrice. His vision grew spotty but he ran towards unconsciousness rather than fearing it. Unconsciousness meant he would leave this dream behind. He had to escape the nightmare and find Marco.

It was not enough. Ace lingered in the nightmare, a bloody and broken mess on the ground.

"It's still  _alive?!_ "

"It isn't human!"

"Kill it before it murders us all!"

Someone stabbed Ace.

More than one someone stabbed him.

In the stomach, the chest, the arms, the legs, in places that were not inherently fatal.

If they wanted him dead, why didn't they strike his heart or slash his throat?

Someone's foot slammed down on his arm, snapping the bone.

A fist struck his jaw, knocking out a tooth and making him spit blood.

A sword went through his shoulder, pinning him to the street.

A pair of hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing.

As his air cut off, the fire-user relaxed instead of fighting because he knew it would be over soon.

Ace finally blacked out.

He woke in the infirmary— or was it?

Possibly-Marco was sleeping at his bedside.

_Don't freak out._

Ace took a shuddering breath and shook the Phoenix awake. The First Division Commander woke with a jolt, sitting upright as his eyes snapped open. Blue flames flared threateningly along his shoulders, making the Summer Spirit freeze, but Marco noticed the fire-user before he could fully transform. The flames vanished and the man released a shaky breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Ace, yoi. You startled me."

The fire-user waited.  _Maybe he forgot his promise. Maybe he's disorientated. Don't leave yet. This might be reality. Give him some time to gather his bearings._

He only realized Marco had been attempting to speak to him when the man placed a hand on his arm. Ace locked his jaw and muscles so as not to flinch or strain his damaged voice box. He did not want to cringe and make Marco sad. He did not want to try to scream and possibly lose his voice. So he remained stiff and silent beneath Marco's palm. Confusion flashed across the Phoenix's still-tired features.

" _Marco!_ "

The feminine voice came from the doorway, and Bay rushed into the room. Her gaze was dark with disapproval, but to Ace's relief, the glare was not directed at him. The doctor stormed forward, pinning the Phoenix with her glower. She grabbed the surprised First Division Commander's wrist, tearing his palm away from Ace's arm. Marco's nails accidentally scraped the fire-user's skin as his hand was forcibly removed, but the flame-eyed Spirit could not care less.

"What did I tell you?" Bay said harshly.

Comprehension crossed Marco's face, followed swiftly by guilt.

Ace still looked to him blankly, waiting, praying,  _hoping_ …

_Say it. Please say it. I need to hear you say it._

"I'm sorry." The Phoenix said, facing the doctor. "I forgot what you told me."

"It's fine." She nodded firmly. "I guessed that was the reason. Remember, you're supposed to do  _this_."

The sensation of a dagger stabbing into his side startled Ace but he did not flinch. It was not real. He had not actually been stabbed. It was just Bay touching him.

Ace felt a warm liquid trickling down his stomach and looked down at the blade embedded in his gut in surprise. His mind blanked but he shut panic away behind a door before it could swamp him.

_Not real. Nightmare. Not real not real not real._

Not-Marco held him in place as Not-Bay carved a gash across his abdomen, speaking casually to the Phoenix. Ace did not bother to take in the not-doctor's words, and instead let himself become lost in the pain. The words and insults his 'friends' threw always hurt worse than the temporary torturing and death. The words would stick with him, lingering at the back of his mind as it tried to make him question reality and doubt himself. Ace could not let that happen again.

He had just taken steps to open up to Marco. He had just somehow learned to trust Bay. He could not allow himself to backtrack and lose what little progress he had made.

The real Marco was supportive and patient. The real Bay was nice and wanted him to get better in a way that did not involve torture or cruelty.

These were frauds, hallucinations, fakes. His friends would never act like this.

Ace just had to keep remembering that. It was all about remembering the truth.

Not-Bay's dagger tore open his chest and the numbness of death swept over the fire-user, accompanied by the warmth of lost blood.

As the latest nightmare faded away, Ace clung to the memories of the real Marco and Bay.

He woke in the infirmary.

_Here we go again…_

ROTGOPROTGOP

The fog was so thick it almost looks like the area was filled with grey snow instead of vapor. It was impossible to tell whether it was day or night, with only swirling mist and darkness as far as the eye could see. The dark island was a black smudge blanketed in the whiteness, the mountains and trees sharp and claw-like amidst the fog.

A boat carved its way through the black waters surrounding the island, its occupants as silent as the grave as they sailed towards the dark land. The vessel halted abruptly far from the island's shore, bobbing up and down with each pulse of the sea. Franky turned to his Captain, a frown on his usually grinning face.

"Are you certain about this?" the shipwright asked solemnly.

"Of course." Luffy said cheerfully. "Just be ready to leave, okay?"

"Franky, Brook, and I will be prepared." Robin said calmly, looking at the dense fog with serene blue eyes. "And we will ensure that no enemies harm the Sunny."

"Are you sure you three won't n-need help with that?" Usopp stammered, gaze fixated on the menacing island. "I can totally stay h-here."

"Quit complaining." Zoro said unsympathetically. "We might need your skills."

"As a sniper or a distraction?" Usopp mumbled, trembling like a leaf.

Law groaned, shifting his nodachi irritably. "It might be best for Nose-ya to remain here. Pitch's power has to do with fear and he has plenty of it."

"Usopp will be fine." Luffy defended his friend. "Whenever we need him, he always pulls through."

The sniper managed to respond to the Captain's trust and wide grin with a nervous smile of his own. Chopper finished digging through the small bag of supplies he was carrying and looked up.

"I'm ready too." The doctor informed them.

"All right." Sanji said, an unlit cigarette in his teeth. "Remember the plan. Everything is an enemy until proven otherwise. Be prepared for hallucinations. And make sure we  _stay together_." His glare settled on Luffy as he said that, and the Straw Hat Pirate smiled innocently back at him. " _The plan_ , shitty Captain."

"Law teleports us in. Find Ace. Nami, Usopp, Law, and I will guard the door while Zoro and Sanji go down. Zoro frees Ace. Sanji carries him. Fight our way out of the seastone and teleport out." Luffy surmised dutifully.

The pirates had discussed it often enough on the week-and-a-half long trip back to Pitch's island, with the strategists of the group predicting everything that could go wrong and how to adapt to such circumstances. They had also taken the time to beat the plan into their scatterbrained Captain's head so he would not run off and leave them scrambling to look for him and escape. This was not an island to explore or get sidetracked on. They were on a mission.

"And if Pitch isn't there, we are not going to try to find him." Sanji stated.

"And if Pitch isn't there, we are not going to try to find him." Luffy parroted. His grin faded and his expression grew serious. "I won't get distracted this time."

Not when the last time, distractions had cost him Ace.

Luffy's stare returned to Pitch's island, the trees and darkness not something to fear, but something that must be overcome to reach his goal. He adjusted his hat and punched his fist into his other hand, flanked by his crew and Law as they all glared determinedly at their enemy's base.

"Let's go." The Captain commanded.

_We're coming to save you, Ace._

ROTGOPROTGOP

It was as if the color had been stripped from the world. Everything was black, grey, or white as far as the eye could see, and what the eye  _could_  see was not that impressive. Fog settled over the mountains and ground, obscuring their vision further and turning the forest around them into near-formless shadows.

The island was silent except for the soft howls of wind and low creaking of shifting branches. The tree limbs looked like long, skeletal fingers, burnt and blackened beyond recognition as they reached futilely for the sky, unable to escape their bitter fate of imprisonment in the darkness. The ground was seemingly comprised of dirt, but it loosened and stuck to their shoes like ash, coating Law's boots with grime and turning them from black to a dusty grey.

The Heart Pirate was not as blinded as his sight-reliant companions, however. The surgeon sensed everything in his room, closing his eyes and focusing on the empty space he could feel below ground. Grey orbs slid open, and Law turned to Sanji. He did not know exactly when the cook had been made the temporary leader of this mission, but guessed it had to do with stealth being needed for the first part of it rather than the luck, mayhem, and brute force Straw Hat excelled at utilizing.

"I've found an empty cavern in the lair for us to appear in." Law told the cook. "There are no Nightmares or Fearlings within. However, if I cannot find another empty room to go to, we will have to walk into the open for a time in order to reach the cells and Fire Fist-ya."

"Let's go." Luffy said immediately, but his swordsman shook his head.

"Not yet." Zoro said firmly, before he turned to Law. "Are you certain that getting in and out will not be a problem?"

There was an odd look in his eyes, and the surgeon wondered if the swordsman was suspicious of him for some reason. Feeling a tinge of annoyance, Law gave a small huff and a glare.

"I am fully rested and capable. Why? Do you believe I will abandon you?" he challenged coldly.

"No. I just don't want you to be distracted." The green-haired man claimed.

Law noticed his perceptive look but shrugged, dismissing it. "I do not see what would 'distract' me. And if you are worried about me being overwhelmed by fear, then you are even less observant than I thought."

"Hmm." Zoro grunted.

"Let's just go already." Luffy said impatiently. "We need to free Ace."

Law nodded and checked to make sure his allies were ready. Luffy shifted impatiently. Zoro and Sanji were calm. Nami trembled slightly. Chopper and Usopp trembled a lot. Overall, they looked as varied and unpredictable as usual, which may or may not be a good thing.

Law mentally sighed.  _If I die because of any of these idiots, I will find a way to haunt them from the afterlife._

And then they were in the cave.

They had underestimated the blackness of the lair. Law could barely see the outlines of his companions in the darkness. Someone— likely Usopp— tried to shriek, but another person silenced him before he could utter a sound.

"Quiet." Sanji hissed. "We're in enemy territory now." The round shape that may have been his head shifted in Law's direction. "Can you sense an empty space closer to Fire Fist?"

Law carefully expanded his room again, holding his breath as a group of Fearlings and Nightmares entered his area of awareness. The creatures did not react, evidently not seeing the blue sphere as it passed over them. The surgeon did not feel any movement in a good-sized area further down, and told his allies so.

"I can do one more. The stairway to the dungeon is one hundred feet to the left of that position if I remember correctly."

"You better." Sanji said without humor. His stern gaze shifted to his Captain. "Remember, no fighting until it is absolutely necessary. We are  _not_  trying to draw attention to ourselves, at least not until we grab Fire Fist. If they're alerted to our presence too early, they might use him as a hostage."

"Got it." Luffy said, not resenting the reminder that was mostly directed towards him.

They appeared in the new cavern. This one had slightly more light in it, just enough to see some of the pirates' features. Law deactivated his room, conserving his energy. They would need to move quickly once they grabbed Ace, and his ability was the most adept for retreating and getting out of danger.

Usopp crept to the doorway and glanced around. He paled, obviously disturbed by the creepy lair that would do well as a horror attraction, but kept scanning the area anyway.

"I don't see any of those creatures nearby." He said in a low whisper. "Should—" He swallowed nervously. "Should we get moving?"

Luffy moved past him and walked casually out the door, only refraining from running off due to his crewmates' glares and his navigator's grip on his collar.

" _Stay_." Nami growled like her Captain was a disobedient dog.

The Straw Hat Pirate smiled shamelessly, and allowed himself to be maneuvered into their predetermined formation before they headed out to a walkway. Luffy and Zoro went first, with Nami next to Sanji and Usopp with Chopper. Law stayed at the back, eyes scanning the shadows as he searched for Nightmares while he simultaneously watched over the jumpier members of the Straw Hat crew.

He really did think that having the more 'cowardly' pirates join them in this mission was going to cause a plethora of problems in the near-future, but Ace would need medical attention from Chopper that Law may not be able to provide, and Usopp was their greatest long-range fighter. The two quivering Straw Hats were needed, as much of a hindrance they might become.

That did not stop Law from hoping Pitch was unable to sense fear itself. The Nightmare King's powers were still a mystery to the Heart Pirate, with only hypotheses and logic helping him with identifying the Spirit's potential abilities.

_If he can sense people through fear, we're doomed_ , the surgeon thought darkly as he followed the trembling doctor and sniper.

The lair was silent. So silent in fact that the pirates worked hard to keep their footsteps from echoing through the caverns, walking slowly and carefully. Unlike with some tunnels like this, there was no dripping water, not even a splash. The unnatural lack of noise was almost suffocating, pressing down on their ears with no relief in sight.

The cave itself was deceptively empty, and Law felt his skin prickle. He kept searching the darkness for threats, fully expecting a horde of foes to leap from the shadows and swarm the invaders. It was far too quiet. Even the whispering that had haunted the surgeon last time he was in the cave were absent.

_Something isn't right about this._

Usopp breathed in sharply, looking up, and immediately Sanji grabbed the sniper's arm, dragging him into another side-cave. The other pirates hurriedly copied them, peering out the doorway. Law followed the wide-eyed sniper's gaze, spotting the five Fearlings that were floating through the air above them. Zoro gripped his swords, but Sanji put a hand on the swordsman's wrist, shaking his head.

" _No_. See if they pass first." He hissed.

Luckily Zoro did not argue with his rival. Law was glad the Straw Hats were taking this so seriously. If only they could act like that in other situations as well. Then they'd be less of a headache to deal with.

The surgeon belatedly noticed that he was at the back of the group, with the others forming around him like an honorary guard. For a moment, he was confused by the placement, but then understanding struck.

_This is intentional. I'm our ticket out of here. They want to ensure I don't get injured or knocked out. Did they discuss this without me?_

Law was unsure if he felt touched or annoyed by their concern. His ribs were fully healed from last time and he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much. Plus the fact that they had apparently talked about it behind his back instead of with him was rather irksome. But still, it was… nice to see them care.

_Don't get all sentimental. It's only because I'm important to the mission._

The Straw Hats' idiocy must be infecting Law and making him soft.

In the back of his mind, the Heart Pirate knew better than that though.

They waited with baited breath as the Fearlings floated above them, Luffy tensing with his arm pulled back, but the creatures did not notice the humans. They drifted away like demonic ghosts, leaving the air empty once more.

Sanji exhaled slowly. "Forward."

The group stepped out of the cavern, returning to their previous positions as they headed down the open hall. Law made to follow and paused, the hair on his nape prickling.

The Heart Pirate heard whispering behind him.

Something covered Law's mouth and an arm wrapped around his waist, but before he could fight or attempt to shout a warning, he was pulled violently backwards. Blackness slammed over his vision like a blindfold, his sight and hearing snuffed out in an instant, and the surgeon plummeted into darkness.


	17. Shouldn't Have Come Back

It felt like everyone was watching her. The people passing her on the streets. The man standing at the small shop that sold clothes. The child playing with his friend as they kicked a ball back and forth. It felt like all of them were looking at Tooth, appraising her, judging her, even though a majority could not see her.

_I have a bounty._

The back of her neck prickled. Her palms were sweaty. Her hands shook.

Tooth's face looked back at her from the wanted poster on the stand. If she had not been so distraught, the Fairy might have appreciated how accurate the sketch was. The artist had done everything near-perfectly, from her eyes to the shape of her face to her feathers. The reward for her capture was large and mocking right below the drawing. The Guardian of Memories stared at the number, mouthing it to herself, and felt a rush of both panic and shame.

_I have a bounty. There's a reward for my capture. What if someone strong comes after me? What if children see and are afraid of me?_

The thought made her feel sick to her stomach, and she stumbled over to the edge of the street, staring blankly ahead. A hand clapped down on her shoulder and she flinched, reaching for her swords as she spun out of the person's grasp. Bunny met her gaze, paws raised peacefully and emerald eyes soft with worry. Tooth slowly sheathed her swords and let her hands drop to her sides, before abruptly bringing them together to wring her fingers. From his position next to the Guardian of Hope, North did not say a word, looking past the Fairy at the poster.

"Are you all right?" the Pooka asked.

"Fine." Tooth insisted distractedly. "I— uh— I did not expect to actually get a bounty. I'm a little—" Scared, confused, ashamed, afraid. "—surprised."

The Guardian of Hope crossed his arms over his chest, foot tapping like only a rabbit's could. "This world is whacked, remember? And ya did cause trouble back at that other village."

"But I only punched a few Marines." Tooth protested weakly. "Surely this world isn't so corrupt just  _that_  would cause me to get such a large bounty?"

"Manny said Pitch is working with the World Government." Bunny pointed out. "He probably realized it was you and pulled a few strings to give you such a bounty." His eyes swiveled and twitched. "Probably how they knew yer name too."

The possibility of corruption being the reason for the price on her head did not improve the Fairy's mood. Tooth still felt miserable. Her feathers were drooped and some of the color seemed to have left her normally bright plumage, making it closer to a pastel blue.

The Guardian of Hope shifted uncomfortably and gave a dismissive huff. "Besides, that number isn't so big." He pointed at the other posters that were visible. "Look, those other rewards are in the upper hundreds of millions. You're small fry in comparison. I'm sure no one will go after you."

"Based on the prices I've seen, I think that one hundred-fifty million Berries is still a lot of money." The Guardian of Memories informed him, feathers flat against her body.

"One hundred-fifty million?" North gasped, breaking his stunned silence at last. He gave Tooth a grin. "It seems that the Tooth Fairy is most certainly on the Naughty List this year."

"This isn't funny, North." Tooth almost snapped. "I have a bounty that's big enough to warrant attention but probably small enough that people will think I'm an easy target. Humans are going to come after me!"

The Guardian of Wonder's teasing expression shifted into a more solemn visage. "I am aware of implications, but it is unlikely any humans will be able to track us down. Unless they can see you  _and_  know about flying sleigh, they will have trouble finding us. But if you are so worried…"

He slowed down next to a clothing store, considering a dozen green cloaks that were hanging on one of the racks outside. A single shopkeeper was rearranging shirts nearby. The Cossack stared at the man for a long time, even clearing his throat, but the human did not turn to face him, going about his business. North chuckled and grabbed a cloak. The salesperson did not even bat an eye as the Spirit made off with the item, handing it to a stunned Tooth.

"Put this on for disguise." The Guardian of Wonder told her.

The Guardian of Memories gawped at the cloak. "…Did Santa just steal?" she asked wonderingly.

Bunny glared at the grinning North accusingly. "You're  _trying_  to get a bounty, aren't you?"

"Me? Never. Why would you ever think that?" the Guardian of Wonder asked jovially. "Santa cannot be on his own Naughty List! Now, put it on."

Tooth reluctantly placed the cloak over her shoulders, pulling up the hood. It was a well-made item, comfortable and soft, and she felt a surge of guilt. This was that man's livelihood. Who knew how hard he had worked to make this? What if he had a family or kids he had to support with the revenue he made selling these?

With that in mind— and her guilt weighing heavy on her conscience— Tooth went back to the shop, ignoring North's protests. The shopkeeper was not out front, having returned to the inside of the store. The Guardian of Memories entered the small establishment and looked around, not spotting the man among the racks of clothing.

_He must be in the back_ , Tooth mused, considering her options.

She had some quarters and 'Berries' that the Guardians had found lying about on their journey, but she doubted that it would be enough to pay for the cloak. North had a point about disguising herself in case someone unfriendly was able to see her, but Tooth was uncomfortable with the idea of stealing the item.

_I'll find something later_ , she decided.

The Guardian of Memories removed the cloak and turned to her companions, giving North a pointed look. "I'm returning this. I'll just leave it on the—"

"Hush." Bunny said sharply, ears standing straight up.

Tooth and North watched the appendages quiver and twist, before the Guardian of Hope's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Do you hear that?"

The two other Guardians listened intently. For a moment, all Tooth could hear was distant footsteps as someone— likely the shopkeeper— moved around in the basement. Then there was a thud, a sharp curse, and a soft— yet high-pitched— cry.

Tooth did not get out much. She had gotten better in the years since Jack joined the Guardians, but most of the time her only interaction with the outside world was through the memories she gathered. She viewed every memory she received, both the good and the bad. Losing a tooth was not always pleasant. Sometimes it could hurt quite a lot. Many times, it would be accompanied by sobbing, wails, or screams.

Which was why when Tooth heard the small cry, she immediately knew it came from a child.

The cloak was forgotten on the floor. The Guardian of Memories was moving before she realized what she was doing, pulling open the door behind the counter and literally flying down the stairs. At first she saw nothing, but she heard another faint sob, accompanied by a man's harsh voice.

" _Shut up_  you little brat! Did you think you could  _escape_?"

The words were like a spark, igniting the fire that was Tooth's alarm and turning it into a protective fury. The Guardian of Memories stormed across the basement, weaving among the piles of boxes and items as she made her way to the sound. She rounded a neatly-stacked heap of items and froze, gaze fixated on the open trapdoor she spotted beside a moved rug.

Tooth stared inside the compartment and spotted the shopkeeper down below as he advanced on a  _little girl_ , arm raised. It took only a second for the Guardian to take in the situation before her, and by the time her mind caught up to her instincts she was already leaping into the hatch.

" _Get away from her!_ "

The Guardian landed almost directly on top of the man, her feet slamming into his upper back and sending him crashing to the ground. The shopkeeper swore, twisting out from beneath her and shoving her off of him. But Tooth kept her footing, already winding up a punch. Her fist connected with the human's jaw with a  _crack_ , and he slumped bonelessly to the ground, head lolling pathetically.

Tooth stared down at him, anger still thrumming through her veins, but it soon became obvious the man was unconscious. As her adrenaline faded, memory returned, and the Guardian looked up at the child—  _children_ — she had just saved. Four children stared back at her fearfully— three boys and one girl. The girl and one of the boys were positioned defensively in front of the smaller two children, doing their best to glare at the Guardian.

Their attempt at looking fierce was not quite as impactful as they intended. They were so scrawny, dirty, and scared that they would have little luck in intimidating a baby mouse at the moment. Tooth's motherly instincts emerged but she held them back, resisting the urge to gather the kids into the arms and hold them.

"I'll go get authorities." North said from his position behind Tooth.

The Guardian of Memories had not even realized he and Bunnymund had come into the compartment with her. The large man retreated up the ladder with an agility that was contrary to his size. The children did not watch him as he went, nor did they notice the large Pooka that glowered down at the unconscious shopkeeper with a murderous expression on his face.

"Who are you?" one of the boys whimpered, looking at Tooth.

"Don't talk to her!" another boy snapped. "She might be the buyer."

Tooth felt the uncharacteristically violent urge to kick the unconscious shopkeeper again, but refrained from showing her rage. She would not—and never  _would_ — regret attacking the human. It was obvious what the man had been intending to do. He was going to ship off the children and sell them.  _Children_. The Guardian took a breath, flattening her feathers, and knelt so she was closer to the height of the wary kids.

"I'm not a  _buyer_." She spat the word with all the venom she felt towards it. "My name is Tooth. I heard you guys were in trouble so I came to help."

"Don't believe her." The one girl of the group said, sharp eyes never leaving Tooth. "The mean-guy said this room was soundproof. She couldn't have heard us."

"I have good hearing and this ba— ...idiot kept the trapdoor open." Tooth told them calmly, even as her heart was shredded into pieces.

She could not break down, cry, or do anything to scare the kids. She had to be a calm and controlled figure they could trust. The Fairy studied the girl carefully, just enough to take in her features. Tooth took a gamble and spoke.

"Are you Moda?" she asked the girl.

The child perked up instantly, before retreating again, slight suspicion on her face. "You know my name?"

"Yes, I talked with your dad. He told me about you. You like to make plays." Tooth said, hoping to give the girl a reason to trust her.

Moda's expression cleared. "You're here to save us!"

To Tooth's relief, it was not a question. Immediately, the four children crowded around her, clinging to the Guardian tightly. One cried against her side, one asked if he could go home now, and the last boy kept commenting how pretty her feathers were. Moda was silent, though she gripped Tooth's hand so hard the Fairy felt her fingers go numb. She did not pull or away or complain.

"It's all right." Tooth soothed. "You're safe now."

One of the kids gasped, eyes going wide as he looked over Tooth's shoulder. The Guardian spun, swords unsheathed, but paused when she only spotted an equally-alert Bunny.

"There's a bunny!" the smallest boy said excitedly. "Look!"

He dove past Moda and the older boy's protective arms, halting before the stunned Pooka and staring up at him with a wide grin.

"Hi Mister Bunny!" he chirped.

The Guardian of Hope slowly knelt so he no longer towered over the kid, giving him a soft smile. "Hello there, anklebiter. Seems you got yerself in a bit of trouble."

The kid was completely unsurprised by Bunny's ability to talk. He nodded rapidly. "Uh huh. But the feather-lady saved us and you're here now too so it's okay. You look soft. Can I hug you?"

Bunny hesitated, surprised by his forwardness, then nodded obligingly. The boy squealed and hugged the Pooka tightly, pressing his cheek against Bunny's furry chest.

"Soft." He whispered happily.

The other boys crept towards the Pooka and asked to touch him as well, while Moda lingered at Tooth's side, keeping her unbreakable hold on the Fairy's hand. Now that the adrenaline had faded, the Guardian of Memories had time to realize what she had just done.

_I attacked a human. One that wasn't allied with Pitch_ , she thought.  _Spirits aren't allowed to hurt humans like that._

Tooth found that she could not regret it, broken laws or not. She would do the same thing over again in a heartbeat. She was a Guardian of Children, on Earth and any world, and she would rather lose that title then allow kids to be hurt while she could prevent it.

_I hate that rule, the one that says we cannot harm humans even if they are hurting children. I know the origin of that rule now thanks to Manny, and I understand the reason for it, but I refuse to sit by and do nothing while a child is in danger in front of me._ Moda abruptly clung to Tooth's side, and the Fairy exhaled slowly, petting her dirty hair.  _Besides, the only way they will know about this is if one of us tells them. I just need to remember to never go too far._

She purposely did not think about Earth and all the children she could not help— all the adults she could not stop. For right now Tooth was able to help and stop a small evil in the world, and that was all that mattered.

There was the sound of many footsteps above them. Faces appeared in the opening of the trapdoor, including a relieved North's. Tooth recognized one of the people among the group, and so did the little girl that clung to her.

"Daddy!"

The man ignored the other's protests and clambered down the ladder, taking Moda into his arms. He tried to say something, either to her or Tooth, but instead burst into tears, sobbing loudly as he rocked his daughter back and forth. Soon enough other people climbed into the compartment, with one of the boys running into the arms of a teary-eyed woman.

The littlest and suspicious boy lingered near Bunny, who stayed invisible to the crowd. The older child looked nervous, while the younger stared around hopefully. The Pooka placed a paw on the elder boy's head, making the kid look up at him.

"Don't worry, anklebiter. None of 'em will get near you unless you know them."

The kid relaxed.

"How about we all get out of here?" one of the men who climbed down said, not hearing or seeing the large rabbit in their midst.

Moda was lifted by her father, and the one boy by the woman that was likely his mom. Tooth offered open arms to the youngest boy, who leaped into them with a giggle. She paused, hesitated, and looked at Bunny and the last child.

"How about you carry him?"

The Pooka stared at her in confusion before his emerald eyes widened slightly.

He glanced at the kid. "Whaddya think, kiddo?"

"…Okay." The boy said.

The adults blinked as the kid levitated, but then their expressions cleared. They did not yelp, or question why a large rabbit had appeared in front of them, instead addressing the Pooka as if he had always been there.

"Mister Mink." One man said. "I apologize. I did not see you there."

Bunny's ears twitched, and he forced his expression to stop mimicking that of a startled deer. "No worries. Let's just get these anklebiters home."

Apparently North had been less than subtle in getting help— not that Tooth could blame him since he needed to work to get people's attention in the first place— because a crowd had gathered outside the store. Many faces were pinched with concern, but when the rescuers emerged with the children, they transformed into expressions of shock and joy. Five people broke from the crowd and the boys in Tooth and Bunny's arms wiggled out of their grasps and raced to meet them. The suspicious boy was surrounded by a woman, man, and two other boys. The smallest child was scooped up by another man he resembled greatly.

"Daddy! Daddy! There's a big bunny! Do you see it?" the youngest boy asked, pointing frantically at the Pooka.

The father frowned, squinting at the group that emerged from the store, and eventually his expression cleared. He smiled apologetically at Bunnymund.

"I believe he's a Mink." He told his son. "I don't know if he likes being called a—"

"Bunny." The boy insisted.

The man sighed, but relented with a soft grin. "Bunny. Of course."

Tooth was distracted by the police— or whatever substituted for police in this world— dragging the unconscious shopkeeper out of the store. More than one look of utter loathing was thrown in his direction, the reason for his arrest blatantly obvious to even those who were unaware of the situation.

One of the officials went to the Guardians and asked a few questions, most of which they answered readily and truthfully. The only thing they kept out was North's theft being the reason Tooth went into the store. Instead, she had been intending to ask a question about the cloak. The Guardian of Memories felt uncomfortable with the lie, but knew better than to trust the villagers to just let it go.

At least they did not seem to know about her bounty.

After the men wandered off to question a couple of the children, Moda's father went to Tooth and clasped her hands with both of his own, startling the Fairy. The little girl stuck to his side and smiled up at her.

"Thank you." Moda's father gasped. "I can't believe you found my daughter. You rescued her.  _Thank you_."

"I didn't intend to." Tooth admitted uncomfortably, stunned by his gratitude. "It was purely an accident."

"Maybe, but still. You found Moda. You found my daughter." The man looked close to tears again. "I can't believe she was here this whole time with that bastard—" He paused, looking down at his child. "Don't say that word around your mother." As Moda blinked in confusion, his gaze returned to Tooth. "If you hadn't been here, she would have been…  _gone_."

His arms tightened around his daughter, but she did not complain. Tooth's mood darkened slightly at the reminder. She knew this kind of thing happened back on Earth, but to see it nearly playing out right in front of her… Adults truly could be cruel, selfish creatures.

"The shopkeeper probably used Jack Frost's appearance as a cover so that he could take the kids and make it seem like Frost was the one who kidnapped them." Tooth guessed.

The man grimaced and held Moda close. "Perhaps. I never thought something like this would happen to us. We moved here three years ago because we thought this island would be safe. It's under Whitebeard's protection, you know."

"Of course." Tooth said even though she really did not know what that entailed.

They both were surprised by the sniffle that came from Moda. The Fairy and man looked at the girl, who stared back at them with tears in her eyes. Moda abruptly buried her head in her father's leg, clinging to his pants. Her father's expression shifted into a look of horror, then regret.

"I shouldn't have mentioned…" He trailed off and stroked his weeping daughter's hair before leaning forward and speaking lowly to Tooth. "Moda always gets upset whenever I mention us moving. She's not sad about the change itself but the  _reason_  we moved. I don't know if you remember, but a few years ago Portgas D. Ace was murdered by the Marines. Moda met him shortly before that and saw him as a friend."

Tooth stared at the man wordlessly, mind going blank.

The man continued, not noticing her expression. "We used to work on a Marine base— her mother and I were chefs. Moda was a milk maid. After Portgas was killed, Moda was distraught. Back then the papers and the Marines we worked with said Portgas deserved it, and… many other horrible things." He met her eyes, visage conveying a heavy sadness. "We knew better. Moda knew better. But it was dangerous for a child to believe the son of Gol D. Roger was a good person, and Moda got more and more upset every time they dragged Portgas' name through the mud so… we moved to this island."

The Guardian of Memories was still speechless, even as her heart constricted with empathy— and slight fury.

Moda's father finally realized who he was talking to and chuckled awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you don't care to hear our life story. I was just… reminiscing." His strained laughter faded into a soft sigh. "Memories are quite powerful, aren't they?"

"Yes." Tooth whispered. "They are."

She looked at Moda, who kept her face buried in her father's side. The Guardian was shocked that the little girl had known Ace when he was human. Out of all the children Tooth could have saved, it was one who had a connection to the Spirit she was seeking. It was amazing and impossible, but sometimes the world worked strangely like that.

"I… knew Ace." Tooth told the father slowly. "Could I talk to Moda for a moment?"

The man hesitated, then nodded, kneeling down and murmuring lowly to his daughter. Moda rubbed at her eyes and nodded, and her father retreated a short distance, keeping a watchful eye as he spoke with one of the men North had gathered. The Guardian knelt before the little girl, who peered at the feathery Fairy with red-rimmed eyes.

"Thank you for being Ace's friend." She said softly. "I'm sure he is glad to have known someone as brave as you."

The little girl mashed her hand across her face again, obviously trying to hide her tears, and mumbled under her breath. "Wrong tense."

Tooth blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Mama says you're supposed to use 'was' for the past." Moda informed her, not looking proud of her knowledge.

She looked so small and sad, and the Guardian of Memories had to wonder what she had seen or heard to make her so upset so long after Ace's death. What terrible things had been said about the person this child looked up to as a friend? Tooth hesitated for a second and took a risk, for no other reason than wanting to see the girl smile again.

"Your mom is right, but I  _did_  use the correct word. Have you… ever heard of a Guardian?"

Moda looked confused by the question and shook her head. "What's that?"

"A Guardian can be many things, but the kind I am talking about is a special person who protects children like you." Tooth began. "They are the Spirits of brave warriors who defend the children of the world from evil."

"Evil like that mean man?" the girl questioned.

_From now on,_ _ **yes**_ _._  "Yes. Let me tell you a secret." Tooth whispered. "When Ace died, he became a Spirit, a Guardian." She winked. "Like me."

Moda's eyes went wide. "Really?"

"Really. Hiken D. Ace is the Spirit of Summer now." Tooth told her. "His main job is to bring summer to the world, but he will always defend those that need him. Just like I came to help you."

"So the Marines didn't beat him?" Moda asked. "He's free?"

"He's free." Tooth agreed solemnly. "And you might even see him again someday."

The girl stared at her wordlessly, eyes round. Slowly, a smile crossed her face. "Ace was really nice. He helped me find mom and dad." The grin vanished. "After he died, the Marines said really mean things about him. They kept saying how he died for nothing and in a cage."

"Ace selflessly gave his life for his brother." The Fairy said firmly. "He is a Nature Spirit now. He'll  _never_  be caged again."

"I'm glad." Moda said happily, eyes shining.

Her father returned, scooping up his daughter in his arms. "We have to go to the hospital with the other kids, Moda. Your mom is going to meet us there. She's so happy you're all right."

"Okay." The girl said, clinging to her father's back. "Bye Tooth!"

The Guardian of Memories waved as the man and his daughter retreated with the other parents. It was only after they were out of sight that she realized she had never learned the man's name. Bunny and North returned to her sides, with the Pooka looking away suspiciously as his nose twitched. His ears flattened abruptly and Tooth followed his gaze. Her own eyes narrowed.

The shopkeeper was conscious and thrashing in his arrestors' holds. They ignored his struggles and dragged him away, faces set in stone as they carried him to jail. The Guardian of Memories hoped he would be there a very long time.

"Sometimes I forget what evils humans are capable of." Tooth whispered.

Bunny stayed silent for a long time. "Yeah. It's true that humans can be right-old ratbags. They're selfish and petty and destroy without a care for anyone except themselves. But not all of them are like that. There are lots of good people in the world; here and on Earth. They are worth defending, worth protecting. When we fight, it's for  _them_."

Tooth looked up at the sunny sky, closing her eyes and pretending for a moment that she was home on Earth at nighttime, beneath Manny's gentle light instead. She thought of the children's joyful eyes as they were freed, thought of the parent's relieved smiles as they were reunited with their little ones, thought of Moda's happiness when she was told about Ace. Bunny was right. Those were the people they guarded. They were the reason they faced threats like Pitch.

"I know."

She would never forget.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Law was gone.

Law was  _not_  at the back of the group.

It took Sanji a moment to realize this fact, but the surgeon was  _no longer there_.

The cook had only looked behind him by chance, almost spinning around in circles as he scoured the area for Nightmares and looked over his dear Nami-swan. As eager as he was to always show up the Marimo and impress the navigator, he was actually pleased when he did not see any enemies. On the other hand was decidedly unhappy when he did not spot Law.

Sanji halted, causing his companions to do the same and follow his gaze. Usopp gasped loudly, only for Nami to silence him, but all of the pirates stared at the surgeon's empty place with shock.

"Shit. How long has he been missing?" Zoro hissed.

"Traffy wouldn't leave us." Luffy said with complete faith in his friend.

"That's not what I was saying." The swordsman said, eyes darting around warily. "If Law is gone,  _Pitch likely knows we are here_."

Usopp looked terrified. "M-Maybe Law found another spot to switch to and went without telling us?" He offered weakly.

"I'm afraid not." A silky voice said. "I just decided to remove that pesky teleporter before he could cause trouble again."

The Straw Hats spun around, with Zoro drawing his swords. A grey-skinned, black-haired 'man' that could only be Pitch Black peeled away from the shadows, smiling pleasantly at the pirates. The Straw Hats crowded together, with Sanji taking the initiative to watch their six as his friends all eyed the Spirit of Fear.

The Nightmare King's yellow eyes drifted over each of them, lingering on Nami, Chopper, and Usopp for longer than the Monster Trio. His gaze was not sadistic, annoyed, or disappointed, but almost amused. The sniper, navigator, and doctor shook visibly, eyes round with terror, and the Nightmare King's grin expanded, showing teeth.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends, Luffy? You went through all that trouble just to bring them to my home…"

The Straw Hat Captain glared at the Spirit of Fear. "Where's Law?"

Pitch hummed vaguely, tapping his chin. "So impatient. Don't worry, the teleporter isn't dead. I have him kept somewhere safe for a little while, just until I'm finished with you." He chuckled. "It's rather funny. You came here to save someone, but instead now you've lost someone else. How counterproductive."

Luffy's fist clenched at his side. Before he could attack, a horde of Nightmares and Fearlings formed from the shadows, lingering at the walls and on the walkways as they stared intently at the pirates. Nami began to hyperventilate, her breathing loud and sharp from where she stood beside Sanji. The cook moved closer to the navigator, deadly serious as he studied the gathered creatures. It would be easier to count places where there weren't any foes than trying to guess the number of enemies surrounding them.

Luffy remained unafraid. "We came to save Ace, and we'll save Law too. You won't stop us."

"Of course that's your reason for returning." Pitch shook his head. "But I'm afraid you're too late. Your brother is dead. I killed him."

The Spirit of Fear said the words so casually that for a moment, they could not register in Sanji's mind. His thoughts went blank, and he stared dumbly at Pitch, unable to comprehend his claim. The cook's gaze went to his Captain, who was looking at the Nightmare King with open, childlike bewilderment. Something unpleasant settled in Sanji's stomach.

"It was an accident, I swear." Pitch said, hands raised. "You see, I was so  _angry_  that you escaped me when I worked so hard to get you here. Your brother actually had the nerve to laugh at me about it. I didn't appreciate that…" Cruel black eyes met Luffy's. "…so I took the opportunity to  _torture him to death_."

_It can't be true_ , Sanji thought.  _It can't be. If it is—_

"You're lying." Luffy whispered, just loud enough for Sanji to hear.

The Straw Hat Pirate was deathly pale, eyes not moving from the Nightmare King for a second. It was as if Luffy had forgotten his friends and the Spirit's minions were there, everything falling out of his awareness except himself and Pitch. Sanji did not forget, and prepared for a wave of enemies to strike.

Pitch smiled nostalgically. "You should have seen him  _writhe_. He lost his voice pretty quickly, but I could see the agony on his face. His last death was merciful and painless compared to what I did to him."

—  _If it is, that means we came here for nothing. Worse than that, it means Luffy lost his brother_ _ **again**_ _._

"You're lying!" Luffy repeated, louder this time.

"Poor Ace was so broken towards the end that he kept thinking  _you_  were the one tormenting him." Pitch told him. "I may have cast a little illusion or two to convince Ace of course, but it was oh so amusing to see him try to apologize to his dear little brother when he was choking on his own blood and could not even scream."

_We left Ace behind. We were right here, on the island. We could have saved him, but we left him behind. If he really is dead…_

_…will Luffy ever forgive himself?_

"Stop lying!  _Ace isn't dead!_ " Luffy shouted, lunging for the Nightmare King.

Pitch easily avoided his attack, smirking and blocking Sanji and Zoro's following strikes with an ease that the cook despised. In a snap Luffy found himself subdued by tendrils of black, the stuff crawling over his body and preventing him from stretching his limbs. Sanji cursed and tried to get the shadows— or was it sand?— off of his captain, only for more to wrap around his legs, holding him in place.

Nami, Chopper, and Usopp gave terrified screams as they too were caught, their cries of panic cruelly audible in the quiet cave. Angry bellows told Sanji that Zoro had been trapped as well, the Nightmare King snaring them all like flies in a spider's web. Pitch grinned at the pirates, eyes gleaming with a mad light.

"You humans truly are foolish. You have no idea what you are up against, and yet you still try to fight me. You should know better…" His gaze settled on Usopp, who quivered in absolute terror. "…especially when half your group is comprised of  _cowards_  who fear death. Did I not tell you? I am the Spirit of Fear, and fear gives me  _power_."

_We messed up_ , Sanji slowly realized, even as he struggled to escape the sand's unyielding grip.  _We messed up really bad._

They knew Pitch was strong. They knew his powers had something to do with fear. They knew he had Ace.

They did not consider he might be  _powered_  by fear. They did not consider the Nightmare King somehow  _anticipating_ their return.

They did not consider he might have  _killed Ace_  before they came to rescue him.

"But why should I just gloat about poor Ace's demise, when I can just show you?" Pitch crooned.

And then the Straw Hat Pirates were in hell.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace ran.

He could not stop himself from fleeing as Not-Marco lunged for him, his nails scraping the fire-user's back as he hastily retreated out of the man's reach. The Phoenix gave an angry bellow as Ace got further from him, darting between confused Whitebeard Pirates as he tried to escape.

Not escape exactly, but find a place to sit down long enough to fall 'asleep'. Ace knew this was a nightmare. Real-Marco would not hurt him. Real-Marco would not yell at him. Real-Marco would not tell him he should die like the Not-Marco had just done. He had to get out and find the real Phoenix. He just needed time.

Ace made it to the Moby Dick's deck, spinning in a circle as he searched for a place to hide. He paused for too long and Not-Marco tackled him from behind, pinning him down with his hands behind his back. The fire-user hesitated, then struggled in Not-Marco's hold, unwilling to face the Phoenix's torment again.

He immediately regretted his decision to fight when Not-Marco grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head before slamming it into the deck. He repeated the move five more times despite Ace's lack of continued resistance, splitting the skin on the fire-user's forehead as it connected with the wood. Ace made himself go limp and still, blinking blood out of his eyes.

_Not real. It's not Marco. Ride it out._

" _Coward_." Not-Marco spat. "I'd expect nothing more from that demon's son."

Ace tried not to listen to his taunts, but it was difficult when the Phoenix was literally on top of him. He had heard the insults many times before but they still stung, even though the fire-user was mostly certain the real Marco did not think those things about him.

None of the other 'Whitebeard Pirates' milling around the deck tried to help Ace. They never did. He was used to it. He never had any allies in the nightmares anymore. They watched with apathy— or joy— as Not-Marco dragged the unresisting fire-user to the side of the ship, bending him over the railing.

Ace watched droplets of blood fall into the ocean below, wincing slightly as the wood dug into his stomach. The First Division Commander kept one hand on the back of the fire-user's neck and the other on his thigh, balancing him precariously on the railing. All the Phoenix had to do was push up on one of the Summer Spirit's legs and he would plummet headfirst over the side.

It was a move Ace vaguely recognized Marco using in battle against certain foes, though now he mostly identified it as just another technique the Commander commonly used to get rid of the fire-user. This would not be the first time he had thrown Ace into the sea.

"See how much they care for you?" Not-Marco mocked. "None of them want to help you. None of them came to save you. We all moved on after you died, we all healed after you abandoned us, and yet you insist on trying to come back into our lives. You're a selfish, vile  _monster_ , and you should have just stayed dead."

Not-Marco's hand lifted and Ace fell, hitting the water with a painful splash.

The icy water went over his head and he floundered for a panicked moment before remembering it was all a dream. The ocean was quick to sap the strength from his muscles, coldness creeping into his flesh and making his struggles slow and lethargic.

The fire-user literally gulped in a mouthful of seawater, then breathed in, allowing the liquid to fill his lungs. It was quicker this way, though not much less painful. Ace quickly went from lightheaded to drowning, the already dark ocean bleeding into a numb black.

He woke up holding the body of a Not-Luffy, with Akainu standing above them both. The corpse of his not-brother turned to look at Ace with accusing, dead eyes, silently blaming the fire-user for his demise. He barely had time to feel guilty before the Admiral's hand ignited, turning from flesh to deadly magma.

Ace shut his eyes and hardly flinched as the man's fist went through his torso. The fire-user held onto his not-brother as he slumped over, suffering silently as the injury took his life. He was certain it took longer to die this time than it had in real life, but eventually the blood and burnt flesh faded and he woke to the unspectacular view of the infirmary's plain ceiling.

He quickly re-shut his eyes and slowed his breathing, listening to the world around him. He heard Possibly-Marco speaking with Possibly-Bay, and strained his ears in an attempt to listen in on their conversation.

"—tell him. He has the right to know, yoi." Maybe-Marco was saying.

"Ace is under enough stress as it is. This might destroy him." Maybe-Bay replied.

There was the sound of approaching footsteps, and the click of a shutting door. When the Phoenix spoke again, his voice was much closer than before.

"Ace is stronger than you think. He can handle it. He has to, yoi." Ace felt eyes on him, and Might-Be-Marco sighed. "If he would just wake up…"

Ace slowly opened his eyes, turning to look at the Phoenix. His expression shifted from melancholic to shocked, before he gave the fire-user a relieved smile.

"You're awake? How much did you hear?"

The fire-user blinked at him, feeling incredibly uncertain. Maybe-Marco had not mentioned reality right away like he promised, but Ace could not shake the worry that the Phoenix would forget to assure him he was awake. The First Division Commander had a lot on his mind and he was not infallible. He also might not realize how important it was to Ace that he confirms reality.

It was that thought that kept Ace from going back to sleep right then and there. He spotted his notebook on the tabletop, but before he could reach for it, Possibly-Marco sat on the edge of his bed and spoke.

" _I have your brother._ "

Ace stilled, staring at the Phoenix in confusion. The blond pirate smiled, and the grin was all wrong, sharp and shark-like with too many teeth. His eyes flashed from cerulean to a cold yellow, almost too quickly for the fire-user to spot it. But see it he did, and horror was quick to grasp Ace in its claws.

"I have your brother, Ace." Not-Marco said silkily. "I did not even have to look for him. He came right back to me with the intent to rescue you. Such a pity. I really wanted you to be there in person when I killed him. But I know better than to wait."

Not-Marco flickered, a familiar black and grey figure momentarily overtaking his form, and Ace's gaze snapped to Not-Bay, who had vanished from the room. It was in that instant that the fire-user realized who was speaking, and the implications of his message hit Ace with the force of one of Whitebeard's blows.

Pitch was in the nightmare. Pitch was speaking to him. If what he claimed was true,  _Pitch had Luffy._

A part of Ace reminded him that he was in a nightmare, and thus all of this was an illusion, but his instincts screamed at him that something was very wrong. Beyond that his brain refused to work, his mind too detached from his body to even consider a physical reaction to the panic that was trying and failing to rise in his chest.

_It can't be true. It can't be true. It can't be true._

It was telling that he thought that, instead of his mind claiming it was not real.

"It's a shame you won't get to see him die." Pitch mocked. "I'm having enough trouble contacting you as it is. Your nightmares are so strong that even I can barely interrupt them." He paused, tipping his head in consideration. "I suppose I could swing by the Moby Dick and retrieve you, but you'd still sleep through it all anyway and would miss out on the fun. Oh well. When I get the chance, I promise I'll show you how your dear little brother died. Maybe I'll even bring you his body."

Pitch smirked sadistically. "I think I have a little scenario to keep you preoccupied for a while. Just sit tight and stay asleep until I come for you, would you?"

Ace leapt out of bed without a plan, lunging for Pitch— to attack in fury, to promise vengeance, or to beg for Luffy's life he did not know— but the Nightmare King departed before he could reach him. Instead the fire-user slammed into Not-Marco, whose calm expression shifted into one of pure rage.

The Phoenix backhanded Ace, sending him to the floor, but before the fire-user could think to get up, the man's foot slammed into the downed Spirit's temple. As blackness crept into his vision for the millionth time, Ace readily accepted it, praying that he would truly wake this time.

_Pitch has Luffy. Pitch has my brother. I have to wake up. I have to save him!_

Ace had wrongfully believed that he was past the point of feeling such unadulterated terror. This was not the first time the fire-user had been told Luffy was in danger. It was certainly not the first time he had been informed of his brother's coming demise. But it was the first time  _Pitch_  was the one to come to him and say he had Luffy and was planning on ending his life.

One thing Ace could count on was that the more unique a 'nightmare' was in recent loops, the more likely it was to not be a nightmare at all. Another thing he discovered and could believe to be true was that the Spirit of Fear that haunted some of his nightmares was always real. Why create a fake Nightmare King to mock and manipulate the Summer Spirit when the real thing could do so much better?

Pitch lied and manipulated unless the truth hurt more, and what was more terrifying than the thought of Luffy in the hands of the Nightmare King? Unless Pitch— or the sand— had been holding onto this specific nightmare for all this time, the Nightmare King had his brother. Ace had to save him, rescue him, because why would Pitch claim such a thing if it wasn't true—

Not-Marco's foot met his skull again, making his head slam into the wood… and Ace jerked awake in the middle of a snowstorm with no memory of the previous dream, wondering why he was so afraid.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Dark.

So dark.

Everything was dark.

Senses abandoned Law and he floundered hopelessly in the void, blackness covering his vision as if he had been dragged into an ocean made of shadows. He could have been falling or flying or spinning in place for all he knew, but there was no such thing as direction in the darkness. His hands groped desperately, his eyes saw nothing, and when his mouth opened no sound came out, or at least he could not hear himself scream. He was without senses but could feel, in his body but unable to move, aware but trapped in a cage he could not begin to comprehend.

Law felt like he was floating, plummeting, choking, flying, drowning. He became gradually aware of how cold it was becoming, so cold that he was surprised when his breath did not fog the air in front of him. Was there even air here? Was he even breathing?

The shadows seemed to creep into his bones, caressing him with the gentleness of a mother's touch, and surgeon stilled, drifting listlessly as his eyes fluttered. They might not be open anymore, or never were in the first place. Law could not tell, his mind detaching from his body and leaving him untethered in the abyss. The feeling reminded him of what he felt before the black sand put him to sleep, but a thousand times more potent. Rather than feel afraid, Law was distantly confused.

_Am I dying?_

The thought may have scared someone else, but in the surgeon it caused another emotion flicker to life. It was not quite desperation, anger, outrage, or regret, lingering somewhere between all of those emotions while not really being an emotion itself. In its core it was merely a fierce, powerful  _need_  to escape. It was almost like stubborn indignation.

Law knew this darkness was trying to trap him. He knew it was trying to sedate and tame him as it held him for unknown purposes. The surgeon was not going to lay there and wait as the darkness either stripped away his life or released him at the whim of its controller. He had things to do. He had people to live for. He had survived so much. He was not about to let a Blackbeard-wannabee take all that away.

_Room!_

Law could not see the sphere, but he  _felt_  it. He was still blinded, but could feel his body, clothes, and weapon again, his Room bringing back his awareness of himself even if the void remained empty. He unsheathed the nodachi he could sense at his shoulder and swung with the fury of a raging storm, letting loose an attack without a target in mind, just acting upon the primal desire to  _get out_.

The darkness rippled and shattered.

The surgeon slammed into the ground, gasping and coughing as he blinked white spots out of his eyes. Law's vision eventually cleared, and he saw he was back in Pitch's lair, on one of the upper walkways. The shadowy cave looked like daylight when compared to the darkness he had just escaped, and he could see nearly everything around him.

Law pushed himself up and onto his feet, wheezing slightly as he took in gulps of comparatively fresh air. He wiped at his brow and looked up, realizing he was up near the cages that hung from the ceiling of the lair. They creaked lowly despite the lack of wind, unaccompanied by any other sounds, and the surgeon frowned to himself.

_I've been separated from the others. Did Pitch know about our plan? I need to get back to them._

He had barely gone a step before he heard… something.

The surgeon paused, listening intently. Among the creaking and groaning of the cages, he heard it again. A… squeak? Law stared up at the cages once more, sharp grey eyes staring at the jagged metal constructs. He could not see anything, but he swore he heard a noise from one of them. The surgeon hesitated, and summoned a room.

"Room."

The blue sphere expanded, and Law became aware of everything within it. He could feel the cages up above, the Nightmares down below, the walkway beneath his feet… and a small  _something_  inside one of the cages. Blaming Luffy for his newfound curiosity, the surgeon summoned the small thing to his hand, and found himself holding a tiny turquoise creature.

It almost looked like a hummingbird, though it was rather humanoid in shape, with bright greenish-blue feathers that the surgeon had still been unable to spot among the greys and blacks of the lair. Law mentally decided that the little thing was a girl, though he had no basis for his assumption. She was smaller than his hand, nestling snugly in his palm with room to spare, and she was so light that he barely felt her there.

Blue and purple eyes opened and peered at the man, and the tiny creature gave a warbling squeak that was almost relieved. Her eyes snapped to the left and she gave a warning chirp. Law sensed the Nightmares coming and dove into a doorway, staying hidden behind it and letting the creatures pass. The man was uncertain if they were aware of his position, and did not want the source of the endless darkness to find and target him again.

He and the fairy— She  _did_  look like a type of fairy so that was what the surgeon was going to call her— waited with bated breath as the Nightmares flew by, unaware of the escapees. Once the monsters vanished around the corner, the fairy looked up at him with  _adoring_  eyes.

_What…?_

To his further surprise, she clung to his thumb, nuzzling into his hand happily as she gave a small chirp. Based on her actions, she seemed to trust him already, not scared in the slightest while being held by a human that could easily crush her with his fist alone.

Law felt distinctly uncomfortable with her obvious and sudden attachment to him. People did not look at and trust him. They backed off, studied at him skeptically, and thought he was creepy. They did not hug the only part of him that they could while chirping joyfully at him. Was she just relieved he had freed her from the cage and was grateful to her savior? He cleared his throat, and the little fairy looked up at him. She squeaked and chittered, while the man stared back in bewilderment.

_She's clearly intelligent_ , he deduced.  _But she seems to be unable to speak in my language. Could she be a new type of Mink, or another creature from the New World I haven't heard of?_

"Are you all right?" he asked curiously.

She stopped chattering and nodded.

_So she can understand me, but cannot speak my tongue. Regardless, if Pitch had her captive here, he must want her for something._  A grin flashed across his face.  _The more I can inconvenience Pitch, the happier I'll be._

The fairy tapped on his palm, and pointed at herself, then her teeth.

Law's brow furrowed. "Are you hungry?" He said, feeling foolish for talking to the adorable— No,  _not_  adorable. He did not think things were adorable!— fairy.

She shook her head before he could worry about what fairies could eat. She pointed at her teeth again.

"Tooth?"

She nodded, then put her hands close together, indicating something small.

"Mini? Small? Tiny?"

No. The fairy hesitated, sighed, and put her thumb in her mouth, obviously trying to convey something. Law raised an eyebrow and then understood what she was trying to do.

"Baby Tooth? Is that your name?"

She clapped happily, hugging his thumb again and giving a joyful squeak.

The surgeon smiled a little. "I'm Law. I did not know you were being kept prisoner by Pitch, but I suppose you can stay with me while we get out of here."

Baby Tooth gave an affirmative squeak, before following up with a long stream of chirping. Her tone suggested a question, and Law randomly guessed she was wondering why he was in the lair.

"A crew I am allied with and I are on a rescue mission. The Captain's brother— Ace-ya — is being kept here and—"

The fairy pulled at his thumb urgently, letting out warbling chirps. When she saw she had his attention, she shook her head, blinking rapidly. Closer inspection revealed she was holding back tears.

_Did I say something wrong? Is she afraid? Wait, she was a prisoner and so is Ace. Could she possibly know…_ Law paused, careful not to let his fingers clench.

"Do you know Ace-ya?" he asked softly.

The fairy  _sniffled_ , nodding. Law's heart sank. He could easily think of a reason for her reaction.

_Don't jump to conclusions._

"Is Ace-ya still here?" he asked.

His horror grew when Baby Tooth shook her head again, still fighting back tears. The final question stuck in his throat, accompanied by another emotion he did not understand. It might be grief, but he should not feel such a thing if Fire Fist had been killed. True, it meant that their mission to save Luffy's brother was all for nothing but…

…Or maybe it was  _because_  he was Luffy's brother. Law remembered his grief and sorrow when he lost Lami, but cut off that line of thought before he could consider what it would be like to have to go through that pain  _twice_.

_Compassion. Empathy. That's what you're feeling_ , his mind informed his coolly.  _'Just allies', huh?_

Law ignored it and finally got the question out. "Is Ace-ya dead?"

Baby Tooth shrugged helplessly. The surgeon thought about that, the different possibilities running through his mind. The fairy was certain that Fire Fist was not in this lair. She was uncertain whether he was alive or not. That meant, no matter what—

Law froze as her answer to his second question fully rendered. Ace was not in the lair. He was not here. He might be dead— again. That meant that the Straw Hats and he were here for  _nothing_.

And the person they were relying on to quickly escape the Nightmare King had been separated from them.

Law placed a confused Baby Tooth on his shoulder and took off running with the fairy clinging to his coat, resisting the urge to shout for the Straw Hats or attempt to teleport around the lair looking for them. He would need as much energy as possible for when they had to face Pitch and escape.

_Pitch had to know we were coming. He knew what my powers could do. He planned for our return. He set up a trap without risk to himself because Ace is not actually here, and we walked right into it._

He hoped he would make it in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say Moda is around ten in this story. Same age as Jamie. I know it's probably not canon buts psht.


	18. Flooding and Blizzarding

Ace stumbled through the thickening snow, shivering as the harsh flakes and icy wind bit at his skin. He could barely feel his fingers and toes, his once-tan flesh now an unhealthy mix of purples and blues. His eyelashes were stuck together and covered with frost, each blink painful and slow as the ice stung his eyes. He braced against the wind, feeling it pull his snow-covered hair away and back into his aching face, each smack feeling like a strike from a whip.

The blizzard was not kind. The snow was not soft. The cold was not pleasant. The cursed blood in Ace's veins did nothing to bar the chill from his muscles and bones, allowing the frigidness of the world around him to sink into his body with the brutality of an animal's claws. It left him pale and shaking, muscles spasming almost too violently for him to remain upright, and yet he could not fall to the storm. It was not a matter of determination or will. The Summer Spirit literally  _could not fall_.

Ace knew this was not real. He knew this was a nightmare. And yet this vision refused to let him go. He had been alone in the blizzard for more than a month now by his vague count, and yet he somehow had not died yet. The fire-user was uncertain whether the sand had somehow smartened up to him 'falling asleep' or 'dying' in order to move to a new nightmare, or if another factor was at play but no matter how much he relaxed and how harshly the blizzard wore on him, the fire-user would not pass out.

He lingered, freezing, conscious, and in agony in a world of bitter white that had no end.

And so with nothing better to do, the Summer Spirit walked. His skin was more blue than flesh-colored at this point and his fire powers were nonexistent in this nightmare, leaving him with nothing to try to warm himself. Not for the first time, Ace wished he at least had a shirt, but even that small potential comfort was denied to him. The sand  _wanted_  him to suffer, and to keep suffering. Ironically, he did not wish for shoes, however. The idea of them just felt wrong.

Ace moved on aching, frostbit legs and feet through snowdrifts that went up to his knees, wincing and shuddering with every painful step as he journeyed through the empty wintery wasteland. Another gust of wind struck him and he stumbled back a couple steps, gasping lowly as the skin on his feet tore open again, the gathered ice filling the widened gashes with snow.

Despite his acknowledgement of this being fake, he felt cold, and afraid, and so very  _alone_. There was no Marco, no Sabo, no Luffy, and no Jack to turn to here. There were not even any enemies to flee from or fight. There was no one but him, and the force of nature that beat ruthlessly at his weakening body but refused to let him die.

Ace tripped and fell to his hands and knees, releasing a wince as his palm split against the harsh snow. The smear of red became the only color in the endless expanse of white around him, and the fire-user watched it vanish as more snow buried the evidence of his wound. He could barely swallow, icy breath hardly moving past his blue lips, and he abruptly collapsed to the ground, unable to stay upright anymore.

The fire-user did not get up, letting the falling snow pile on top of him like a deadly, cold blanket. Would he finally die when it buried him, or would he be able to breathe beneath the crushing pounds of white, trapped and suffering for eternity as his immortal body refused to let him pass on?

Ace closed his eyes, body wracked by tremors and possibly sobs as the ice stabbed deeper into his veins. His tears turned to icicles on his cheeks, and the ice felt colder than even the black sand that was the source of this hell. His legs and arms were going numb and he realized he likely could not move again even if he wanted to.

The snow piled over him, blocking out the light grey sky, and Ace slowly began to hate the color white, despising it for taking over his world and stripping it of warmth and color. This was almost worse than the nightmares where the Summer Spirit was captured and experimented on. At least then he could usually rely on a nicked artery or deadly test to end the dream. Here Ace lingered, immortal and in pain, trapped in the element that was his greatest foe…

Ace's eyes snapped open. His cracking lips bled as he moved his mouth without uttering a sound. Misery and confusion faded away as fury took their place, and the fire-user's lips twisted into a painful snarl.

_Don't… you… dare…_

He finally comprehended what the black sand was trying to do. Ace was uncertain whether the poison was capable of such evolution or if his own mind was responsible for his situation, but he chose to focus on the enemy he could better fight and blame, directing his rage at the substance inside his skin.

For the first time in a long time, Ace was truly outraged, fully unrelentingly  _furious_. He knew the sand was a manipulator like its master, taking his fears and tormenting him with them, but since he had been under its thrall for so long and knew how to identify reality, it now sought to add to his list of terrors.

_You won't make me fear Jack. I'll_ _**never** _ _fear Jack!_

Winter was Jack's season. Snow and ice were his elements. It was true that Ace feared being alone and the lengths of his own mysterious maybe-immortality, but it was obvious now why the sand was using those fears as an excuse to dump him in this wintery hell. It was trying condition him to see things associated with the last person he could fully trust as a threat, as something to mistrust and fear. Just like how it conditioned him to accept so many other terrible things.

Ace would never stop believing in Jack. And not just because he had promised.

Jack was his Guardian. Jack was his friend. Jack was his brother. And quite frankly… the whole fire versus ice cliché was  _bullshit_.

The fire-user rolled onto his back, throwing a heap of snow off of his body. The cold still nipped at Ace, but it was more distant than before, either because of his newfound determination or because his body had finally given up on its failing sense of touch.

The black sand might be cold, but that did not make cold his enemy. The sand might feel like jagged ice, but that did not make ice something to hate.

Ace stared at the storm, shuddering but not cowed, then brushed his near-blackened fingers over the snow. It did not hurt anymore. He stayed laying down, ignoring the frigid wind and dangerous blizzard, and imagined Jack was at his side. Winter was Jack's to control. It was his Season.

It was meant for fun.

Ace moved his arms and legs back and forth, closing his eyes and imagining a snow angel carving its way into the snowbank. His numb lips may have smiled, and he abruptly felt a rush of warmth. In reality that meant he would be dying right then. But this was a dream. This was all a hallucination. So it was okay.

Besides, Jack would never hurt him.

The cold, the warmth, the pain, and the numbness all slipped away…

And Ace woke.

The infirmary was almost painfully hot in comparison to the blizzard he had been imprisoned in, the warmth so startling that for a second the fire-user thought he was burning alive. He gasped, causing his throat to ache, and sat up abruptly with eyes flipped wide open. There was a soft yelp and a crash next to him, but Ace ignored the source in favor of staring down at his body.

He was not on fire or freezing. He was not covered in burns or frostbite. He just had the usual black markings, the sight of which ironically relieved Ace and made him relax.

Ace glanced around the familiar infirmary, flame-colored eyes focusing on the one out of place thing in the room, and somehow a smile threatened to form on his face.

Maybe-Marco was sprawled on the floor in an undignified heap, a stunned look on his normally stoic face and an overturned chair beside him. The Phoenix looked so bewildered and outraged by his demeaning position that Ace felt the desire to laugh, though his usual nerves kept him from giving in to the urge.

_Jack would find it funny_ , he mused.

And then Ace found himself laughing. He tried to, at least, and despite the ache his attempted chuckles caused in his throat, the fire-user smiled and his shoulders shook, letting out the mirth he felt at Maybe-Marco's situation. The possibility that he was stuck in another nightmare could not hold back his amusement, and he kept snickering even when the Phoenix shot him a glare.

The blond-haired pirate's expression softened abruptly and he let loose a small snort. "I'm glad you find my humiliation to be funny, yoi." He stood up and righted the chair before sitting on it and looking Ace in the eye. "This is real, Ace."

The tension Ace did not know he was feeling left his body, and his chuckles faded into a tired sigh. The black sand prodded at him and he mentally smacked it away, snarling internally. He took a moment to observe the very-real pirate. Marco looked a little less tired than before, though not by much. He was certainly less haggard, though the dark shadows under his eyes were still a permanent fixture on his face.

Ace felt a rush of gratefulness to the Phoenix. He despised his need for the man's presence as much as he appreciated it, wavering between a desire to not burden Marco and a desperate need for companionship. A memory, clear and uncorrupted among the distorted mess his 'past' had become, rose to the front of the fire-user's mind.

_Ace glared at Jack with all the ferocity the tiny six year-old could muster. The Guardian was unbothered by his impressive glower, smirking like an idiot with his arms held out invitingly as he looked down at the short boy._

" _Come on, Ace." The Spirit cooed. "It won't kill you."_

" _No." Ace said flatly._

_Jack pouted. "Please? For me?"_

" _I said_ _ **no**_ _." Ace spat, crossing his arms and holding back a wince. "Don't need a hug."_

" _You fell out of a tree and scraped up your arms." The Winter Spirit said. "It's_ _ **tradition**_ _to receive bucket-loads of affection after getting an injury. That includes hugs."_

"' _s not that bad." Ace mumbled. He held up his bandaged arm. "You fixed it."_

_The Guardian held back a sigh. "Yeah… but I still want to give you a hug. It's part of the healing process. When a little bro is hurt, the big bro has to take care of and embrace him to make him feel better." Jack's flippant mood faded and he rose an eyebrow at the child. "You were fine with getting a hug from your bestest big brother a year ago." The Guardian's nose wrinkled with distaste. "And don't try to tell me you don't want one because you're 'growing up.'"_

_Ace continued to scowl, carefully hiding his insecurities behind an angry front._

A year ago, I didn't know I am the son of a demon _, he thought self-loathingly._ How can Jack still want to be around me when he knows what I am?

" _Hugs are for babies." The boy claimed out loud. "I don't need any."_

" _Right." Jack was undeterred. "Humans need physical contact, and hugs can literally make you feel better. I read it in a book once."_

_Ace's eyes widened mockingly. "You can_ _**read** _ _?"_

_The Guardian opened his mouth to retort, closed it, and sighed. "I set myself up for that one." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Fine. But my point still stands. You are a human child who deserves and needs affection for proper development, and I currently have an excuse to smother you. So come here and accept your fate."_

_Ace avoided Jack's amused— and searching— gaze, scuffing his foot on the ground and tracing lines in the dirt with his toes._

"' _m not a human. 'm a monster." The child stated._

_Something dark flashed across Jack's expression before it quickly vanished. He knelt before Ace, still not touching him, but kept his arms open invitingly._

" _You are_ _ **not**_ _a monster." The Guardian said fiercely. "Your father may not have been the greatest guy, but what he did has nothing to do with you. You are your own person, and you aren't guilty of any of his crimes. I know Dadan and Garp aren't the most… parental people, but you deserve to be loved, Ace. And you_ _ **are**_ _getting a hug."_

_The Guardian wrapped his arms around the six year-old boy before he could protest. Jack's body was cold but somehow the embrace felt warm. His arms were firm around Ace's back, solid but not tight as they encased the child. His hoodie was soft and bore the slightest presence of frost as it pressed against Ace's cheek, and the boy found himself snuggling into the hug instead of pulling away. The Guardian smelled like snow and icy winds and woods and freedom._

_Ace felt safe._

_Ace felt secure._

_Ace felt… loved._

_His arms circled Jack without his permission, but he did not try to pull away. Ace wondered if a mother's hug might feel like this. If not for the embarrassment that accompanied the babyish thought, he might have teased Jack with it. The Guardian remained blissfully unaware of Ace comparing his actions to motherly instincts, humming softly as he held the child to him. After a long pause, the Winter Spirit spoke again._

" _Feel better?"_

_Ace did not meet Jack's amused gaze, instead nodding into the Winter Spirit's stomach. The Guardian chuckled and gently placed a hand on the child's head, ruffling his black hair._

" _Good. Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"_

_Ace did not respond. Jack already knew the answer anyway._

The warm memory was immediately followed by ones that were much less pleasant. His mind flashed back to the 'years' without a shoulder to lean on— specifically the past 'month' alone in the raging blizzard— and suddenly all of Ace's reservations fell away.

The fire-user reached out and gripped Marco's arm for a moment, then discarded his aversion to touch and pain and outright glomped the man. The Phoenix froze, unmoving as Ace grabbed him. Giving a name to the fire-user's disliking of contact did not help lessen its impact in the slightest. The Summer Spirit powered through the aches and queasiness caused by touch in order to cling to Marco desperately.

It did not feel okay but it also did, because to Ace it had been a 'month' since he had seen any other person and a 'few more years' since someone had touched him without injuring him, and the fire-user just wanted contact where the other person did not— intentionally— hurt him. He was the opposite of a touchy-feely type of guy— He wasn't Luffy— but after being alone for so long Ace needed basic human contact as much as he despised it.

A part of Ace complained about how childish and stupid he was acting, but a majority of the fire-user did not care in the least about his behavior. In hindsight he supposed he could have simply kept touching Marco's arm to fulfill his panicked need for interaction instead of invading the man's personal space and embracing him without warning but it was too late to regret it. However, giving a damn about such social etiquettes was not even present of the fire-user's list of priorities.

The Phoenix was stiff and still in his hold, most likely feeling awkward and uncomfortable— and not returning the hug. Ace understood though, and did not take it personally. Marco was not an affectionate person by default. He might also be too shocked to return Ace's embrace. Or maybe he was uncertain the fire-user would  _want_  the blond pirate to touch him. Or it could be that he secretly hated the Summer Spirit, although now Ace guessed that possibility was much less likely than he had previously believed. Either way, Ace let himself be selfish and refused to let go.

He was not in a nightmare, or asleep, or alone. He needed to know Marco was there, and real and maybe even cared about him a little bit.

Ace really missed Jack.

Eventually the Phoenix patted his head, allowing the suddenly touch-inclined fire-user to cling to him like a confused baby monkey. As Ace calmed, embarrassment reared its mocking head and he abruptly released Marco, withdrawing and fiddling with his bracelet. The blond pirate did not comment on his shifting mood.

The fire-user felt like he was forgetting something extremely important, but could not put his finger on what it could be.

"You were only asleep for a few hours this time." Marco reported encouragingly, interrupting his thoughts. "That's much better than the days you were out before, yoi."

Ace momentarily allowed himself to feel unhappy about his inability to stay awake nonstop before shoving the negative feelings aside and focusing on the positive part of the Phoenix's statement.

_I'm getting better. I got out again, quicker this time. Could it be because of what the last nightmare tried to do?_

The thought of the vision's attempt to make him fear Jack was enough to make him scowl, flames licking across his shoulders. Marco leaned back and Ace extinguished the fire, glancing apologetically at the Phoenix. He spotted his notebook, and finally noticed the tray of food that was set beside the papers. The blond followed his gaze.

"Thatch stopped by and left this, yoi." Marco said casually, though his half-lidded eyes were alert. When Ace did not react adversely to the chef's name, the Phoenix continued. "There's tea with honey to help soothe your throat, though it might be cold by now."

Ace picked up the mug, feeling the coolness of the liquid through the ceramic. He frowned subconsciously at the tea and glanced at the small pile of sandwiches on the tray.

_I don't need all this. I'm a Spirit now. I don't need to eat that much._

It was true that he was a little hungry but the twisting in his stomach may just be the guilt that came from the food that would be wasted— and the secrets he kept.

_I should explain to Marco. I should._

What was Ace supposed to do? Just casually write down that he was formerly dead, had been resurrected by a Patriarchal Moon Spirit and Matriarchal Nature Spirit from another world, and was expected to go to that world eventually, leaving all of this behind? Ace stared at his reflection in the brown liquid, just able to make out the black marks that covered his face and the flame-colored spots that were his unnatural eyes.

Marco had not pressed him for answers about anything yet, but the fire-user knew that his situation was too far out of context for the Phoenix to ever figure it out on his own. He felt another surge of remorse as he abruptly realized that Marco likely thought things were going to go back to the way they were before Marineford, maybe even with Ace reclaiming his position as the Second Division Commander. In fact, all of the Whitebeard Pirates probably thought that, including Whitebeard himself.

_No matter what, it can't go back to the way it was_ , Ace thought morosely.  _I'm so sorry. I should explain to him now. All of it. I should… I_ _ **can't**_ _._

Marco was watching him, noting his every shifting expression. The Phoenix's brow furrowed with worry, but again he did not press Ace to reveal his thoughts. He was probably waiting for the fire-user to tell him things on his own. He really was kinder than the lying, secretive Summer Spirit deserved.

"If you want, I can have Thatch—" Marco began, only to go silent when Ace shook his head.

The Summer Spirit closed his eyes and focused on the mug, carefully heating up his hands.

_Control. I am in control. Just a little warmth._

Steam stroked his face and he opened his eyes, watching the vapor drift up from the reheated tea. The drink was warm and the mug was fully intact, and Ace felt a small bit of renewed pride. Marco's expression was bored, but the fire-user could spot the curiosity in his eyes. The Summer Spirit knew that the Phoenix  _really_  wanted to ask about his powers, but the man proved the strength of his restraint when he did not.

Ace sipped his tea, savoring the slight sweetness and ignoring the morose feeling of shame that threatened to rise up again. No matter how much Marco insisted that he was helping Ace because he wanted to and cared for him, the fire-user would never believe he deserved the Phoenix's attention.

_I should tell Marco I'm a Spirit. I should tell him about my powers. I should tell him about Pitch._

He didn't.

_I'm so selfish._

Again Ace's gaze was drawn to the dark bags beneath Marco's eyes. He wondered how soon after the fire-user fell asleep that the Phoenix had woken. Had he panicked? Had he shouted for Bay? Had he blamed himself? Ace doubted that the blond pirate had slept again since.

_I screwed it up. I fell asleep when he did. Now he won't want to rest because he'll be afraid I'll conk out again._

He kept his self-hatred off his face as he continued to sip his tea, thinking.

_They won't trust me to stay awake by myself anymore, and Marco won't leave me alone anyway. He shouldn't be stuck with me all the time. Maybe if I can convince Bay to stay… No. She has work to do and needs to be ready in case someone else gets hurt._

Ace paused mid-sip, nervousness flashing across his features before he reeled it in. A new plan formed in his anxious mind, and he lowered the mug before setting it on the table. Marco watched as he picked up his notebook and wrote before he could be hindered by nerves.

" _Bay said I can leave the infirmary?"_

"Yes, real." Marco responded, more than used to confirming things by now.

Ace hesitated, then quickly wrote another question.  _"Can I go see some of the other Whitebeard Pirates?"_

Ace did not feel ready to re-meet the other Whitebeard Pirates. Not at all. He knew they had been ordered to stay out of his room and barred from visiting him, and was grateful to Bay and Marco for keeping his former crew from swarming the infirmary. Not only did his nightmares fill his head with 'memories' of pain and suffering at 'their' hands, but apparently some events like Haruta yelling at him were in fact real. Some of the pirates might actually hate him.

But if seeing them all gave Marco a break, Ace had to do it. Now he just had to convince the Phoenix that his question was genuine, and that he could totally handle interacting with a bunch of people. As in maybe three, to a couple thousand people.

_What am I_ _**thinking** _ _? …About Marco's health. Right._

Marco looked at the words for a long time, slowly lifting his gaze to study Ace's face. The fire-user kept his fear and insecurities hidden, adopting a solemn and determined visage. He  _was_  determined. Determined to involve other people so Marco could relax for a bit. It was not the most honest reason, but it was a reason nonetheless.

" _I want to see them."_  The fire-user partially lied.  _"I missed them."_

At least the second sentence was sincere. He missed the real Whitebeard Pirates that he vaguely recalled from his memories. Many of their interactions were fuzzy and vague, but he clearly recalled pranking with Thatch, competing with Haruta, and partying with so many others. If they had done that, then surely they could not hate him too much?

Marco released a slow breath. "All right, yoi. If you're feeling up to it, I suppose we could go visit them. It's lunch time, so they should all be in the mess hall, including Oyaji."

Ace nearly backtracked at the news, but held firm before he could show any uncertainty. If Marco knew how nervous he truly felt, he would tell the fire-user he could wait, not to push himself, and to take it slow. If Ace showed hesitation, the Phoenix would rescind his permission and the fire-user could not have that.

_I'm doing this for Marco. I can be capable for him so he doesn't have to worry all of the time._

The Phoenix was still scrutinizing him, waiting for a response. He frowned. "We don't have to go right now…"

He trailed off as Ace circled the sentence about his desire to see the Whitebeard Pirates again, morphing his expression into what was hopefully a pleading look. He congratulated and hated himself for his deception when Marco sighed again, nodding in agreement.

"If you're sure, yoi."

_Nod_ , Ace ordered himself. His head did not move.  _ **Nod.**_  His head bobbed up and down.  _Good job._

Marco ducked out of the room to talk to Bay. When he returned, Ace tried to stand, only for the Phoenix to wave his arms negatively.

"Don't rush yourself. Bay has to check something first, but then we can go, okay?"

Ace held back a frown, not pleased by the news. If he did not go now, he would have time to think, and pondering about everything bad that could happen would only make it harder for him to keep calm. He shot Marco an impatient look before doodling in his notebook again.

At first he thought Bay's business had to do with giving him another checkup, but when the doctor did not come into the room he realized her business was with someone else. The fire-user was rather pleased that he was not the recipient of Bay's prodding for once, though eventually he comprehended that the doctor going to see someone might be a bad thing. He stopped drawing a fairy that resembled Baby Tooth to ask about it.

" _Is someone hurt?"_

Marco was quick to reassure him. "No. It's… just a report. Bay will be back soon."

Ace looked down at his picture, relieved, and wished he had the correct shade of turquoise for her feathers. He would not ask. It would be a waste of ink anyway. After a time, Marco's eyes flicked to the doorway and he stood up. Bay walked into the room, shooting Ace a smile.

"Good to see you up again." She scrutinized him, searching for any signs of weakness or uncertainty. "Are you sure you want to see the others right now? The mess hall is quite busy."

Ace did not take the offered way out, instead nodding firmly. He could do this so that Bay and Marco were not stuck fretting over him all the time. He could try to expand his circle of people, if only for a little while, so that the Phoenix would not have to worry so much anymore. It was only then that Ace realized he wanted to reunite with the Whitebeard Pirates not really because he truly wanted to see them, but mostly because it would likely benefit Marco. There was something decidedly wrong with that being his motivation, and he wondered if he was so far gone that his former crew had become conveniences more than missed friends. The guilt tried to eat at the fire-user but he pushed it away.

Under Bay and Marco's watchful eyes, Ace stood under his own power, bare feet settling firmly on the wooden floor. The Phoenix dithered at his side but did not offer his arm this time, and the doctor followed his example without comment. The fire-user greatly appreciated their presences and lack of touching, and resolved to walk to the mess without the pirates' assistance.

It was odd that it was more difficult to move around on the Moby Dick than when he had been stumbling through a snowstorm. His legs almost cramped, each step was rather slow, and the fire-user had to work hard to keep his balance and not fall on his face. Ace's mind told him he had just been walking a few minutes ago with relatively no issues, while his body reminded him that he had truthfully just been in bed for a long time, allowing his muscles to grow stiff.

At least his muscles had not atrophied. He appeared to have lost a little weight compared to before he was captured, but Ace guessed he might just look strange to himself because of the black sand marring his flesh. If he  _had_  somehow resisted weight-loss during his captivity, he supposed it must have something to do with Spirit biology.

Ace wondered if Marco or Bay were questioning his relative lack of problems in the weight and muscle department, but brushed his worries away before they could choke him.

Instead Ace remembered the uneaten sandwiches on the table beside his bed, and let a different source of stress plague him. They were going to the mess hall, and the fire-user would probably be expected to eat. He would not need much, and his lack of appetite would likely result in a whole new mess of misconceptions for Marco and Bay to fret about. He just hoped people wouldn't start shoving food in his face and expect him to eat it like he used to.

The mess hall was packed. Ace's old friend regret waltzed back up to him as he froze in the doorway. Too late he second-guessed his decision, mind screaming at him that coming here was the worst idea he ever had.

_What am I doing? There are so many people here. I can't meet them yet. Oh Manny, I look awful. I have the marks and I keep flinching and I'm jumpy and I can't talk and I forget things anddon'trespondtopeopleandthey'regoingtopitymeorhatemeorgetdisgustedorannoyedor—_

Ace returned to his body and gradually became aware of a yellow blob in his blurry vision. The blob slowly morphed into Marco, who stood in front of the fire-user with his hands hovering near Ace's shoulders. He did not touch the Summer Spirit. Before the Phoenix could speak, someone in the hall noticed his presence and called out to him.

"Hey, Marco!"

Heads turned towards the door as everyone went to greet the Phoenix. The First Division Commander stepped aside as he turned, unintentionally revealing Ace to the Whitebeard Pirates. One second, the pirates were cheerfully chatting with one another, the next, a deafening silence fell over the hall as they all stared at their returned brother.

Ace's flight instincts screamed warnings at him, while his body locked in place and refused to respond to said instincts commands to run. The fire-user's heart pounded loudly, threatening to burst free of his chest, and he was too terrified to even tremble before the hundreds of eyes that bore into him, judging him.

This was not the first time this had happened. Many nightmares included 'reunions' where the Whitebeard Pirates would gawp at him, horrified, shocked, or revolted by the physical changes done to the fire-user. They would whisper about him behind their hands, avoid his gaze or meet his eyes coldly, or sometimes attack and overwhelm him the moment he stepped through the door.

Except… those had all been nightmare scenarios. This was real. This was their real reunion. These were the real Whitebeard Pirates. There were no do-overs. Things Ace did mattered. The fire-user could not risk ruining it all and let his offensive actions mar their future relationships and interactions forever.

So he did what Old Ace would have done.

He smiled and waved.

"Ace is back!" Someone shouted.

The room exploded into movement and sounds, many pirates cheering while others leapt to their feet and rushed for the fire-user. Before they could reach him, they skidded to a halt with the abruptness as a bird hitting glass, some paling as their skin grew covered with a sheen of sweat. Ace glanced to the sides to see both Bay and Marco flanking him and giving glares that promised a gruesome murder for anyone who dared to overwhelm the fire-user.

The Phoenix noticed him watching and relaxed, giving him a half-grin, but the doctor stayed firm, cowing the stampeding pirates with a glower. Bay had her sword with her, and she looked ready to use it if she had to.

"Commander Ace is here!" Someone called from the mob.

"Welcome back!" Another shouted.

"I'm so glad you're okay." One more person sniffled.

"Commander Ace, sit here!" A pirate offered.

"No, sit  _here_." His comrade argued.

"Here, sit with us!" yet another suggested.

The Whitebeard Pirates continued to crowd and babble, speaking over one another as they tried to gain their brother's attention. The onslaught of noise and bellows aimed at him was reminding him of numerous unpleasant scenarios, but luckily he was able to differentiate the friendly banter from the threats spat at him in his dreams. Mostly. Even with that knowledge, Ace felt extremely claustrophobic and his panic simmered at the back of his mind. It almost choked him, hindering his breathing and making his hands shake.

However, as he stood in the middle of the swarm— _not being attacked_ — the fear slowly lessened. It was as if Ace's heart was becoming too tired to keep beating so quickly, his body unable to maintain the instinct to flee. Marco noticed his hesitance and leaned over, speaking in the fire-user's ear.

"You don't have to do this now." The Phoenix murmured. "If you aren't ready we can—"

Ace shook his head and stepped into the crowded hall, notebook clutched to his chest. No one commented on his makeshift shield, and to his relief the pirates readily cleared the way, giving him a path to the Commanders' table by Whitebeard. The looks the fire-user was receiving from that location were mixed. Some looked openly happy, others were neutrally pleased or bored, while still others looked uncomfortable and upset.

Specifically Thatch and Haruta.

_What did I do wrong?_   _Is it the marks? Or because I look weak? Or—_

Memory clicked, and the fire-user recalled previous,  _real_  conversations he had with Marco. The fiascos on the deck had been real. Thatch thought Ace was going to off himself, and Haruta had yelled at him after he had put the First Division Commander in danger. His stomach twisted at the memory, and he speculated whether anyone would act upon their negative feelings towards him. Ace mentally began to plan an escape route, eyes darting about the hall as he considered the best way to flee if needed.

_I'll need to make sure to get out of Whitebeard's reach. I'll have to look out for those with ranged weapons as well. Speed Jiru is fast, but if I react quick enough I may be able to drop him and get away before he can grab me. If I can't get to the main exit I'll head into the kitchens and out the back…_

Ace's thoughts cut off as he reached the table and he accepted that he was too far into his 'great idea' to back out now. His honorary attack dog— also known as Bay— snapped at the flocking pirates and bullied them back to their tables, saying they could bug Ace later, and positioned herself somewhere behind the fire-user, nails tapping on the hilt of her sword. Vista and Izo scooched aside on the bench and Ace found himself sitting between the okama and Marco.

Across from Thatch and Haruta.

_Great._

Ace felt another gaze on him and looked up, staring into Whitebeard's calm eyes. The fire-user belatedly realized that he should have gone to the Yonko first, but he supposed it was too late for that now. At least he was able to meet the giant's eyes without flinching— outwardly. That was something.

"I'm glad you are joining us, my son." The giant said in a low voice that only carried to the Commanders' table.

_A large fist crushed his trachea, strangling him until his neck snapped. A hand struck him and shattered his bones, sending him flying through the wall where he was left a crumpled, bloody mess. A cold voice told him he was not his son, expelling him from the crew that he once saw as family._   _That same voice ordered the removal of his sacred mark, and was followed by the sound of a cracking whip._

Ace stared at the Yonko for a long moment, and somehow managed to summon a small smile. If he stayed at this table, the number of people he would have to deal with went from thousands to sixteen including Whitebeard, fifteen if he did not count Marco. That number was less scary, more tolerable. He could do this. The Yonko seemed content to let his children converse with Ace first— Thank Manny— and the fire-user's attention was swiftly taken by Izo.

"It's nice to see you out of the infirmary again, Ace." The fair man said calmly, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

_A smooth voice spoke in calm tones as a gun was pressed to Ace's temple, informing him of all his flaws and faults as the okama told him that if he had any remnants of honor left he should take his own life._

Ace smiled politely, unsure of how to respond. He supposed he could write in his notebook, but did not want to draw attention to his handicap. Did the Commanders know he could not speak? Before he could worry about it, food as set in front of the fire-user. It was far too much for him.

He nodded graciously at the cook, who beamed at him, and picked up a fork, prodding at a piece of chicken. A few of the Commanders, and Whitebeard, were watching him carefully. They tried to be subtle, but Ace could sense their eyes on him. Feeling like an escaped prisoner caught in a search light, the fire-user put the meat in his mouth, chewing slowly. The chicken was good, tender and flavorful.

He already felt full.

_I don't need this. It's a waste._

Thankfully, the Commanders were content to cease their observing of Ace. They did not continue to stare. They did not bring up the fire-user's appearance or the fact that he had been thought dead for years. They did not wonder why he was not speaking. Instead they merely turned back to their own conversations, and Ace could almost pretend that this was just another meal from before the whole Teach debacle, where he was just one of the many Whitebeard Pirates eating lunch with their brothers.

_Except I'm not a Whitebeard Pirate anymore, am I? I can never be one again. And none of them know it._

Ace became horribly aware of the sand-streaked, defiled tattoo on his back, Whitebeard's altered crest almost burning on his skin. His hand shook a little as he poked another piece of meat, but other than that he kept himself from showing his dismay outwardly. The second piece of chicken tasted like ashes in his mouth. The fire-user caught Namur's eye, who shot him a friendly smile.

_The swimmer watched calmly as Ace floundered in the water, crossing his arms and observing in amusement as the fire-user drowned. As Ace's vision blackened and his lungs screamed in pain, he saw the Fishman smile, as apathetic to his suffering as the shark he bore a resemblance to._

Ace set down his fork and picked up his pen, glancing at Marco and noticing him frowning at his mashed potatoes with narrowed eyes like they had personally offended him. Either that or the Phoenix was about to fall asleep in them.

_Wouldn't_ _ **that**_ _be a role swap?_  Ace thought. He might even find it funny.

Ace shifted his gaze to Izo, who was daintily eating some rice. There was  _something_  the fire-user wanted to say to him. It lingered at the back of his mind, and sat on the tip of his silent tongue. He was sure it was nothing too important, but… Ace sifted through his memories with Real-Marco, and recalled bits and pieces of one of the conversations he had with the Phoenix. He wrote in his notebook and showed it to the Sixteenth Division Commander, who paused before taking it and reading the words on the page.

" _Thank you."_

Izo read his message two more times before meeting the fire-user's gaze. "For what?" he asked, handing the notebook back.

" _You liked my tattoo."_  Ace wrote carefully.  _"Thank you."_

It was just a little compliment. Ace was not even sure that Izo had meant it. But he wanted to thank the okama for the praise regardless. The fire-user had been a little preoccupied at the moment to show his gratitude back then, but it was only polite to do so, even if his response was late. Not to mention that Ace wanted to get all the small things out of the way this time for when he had to leave again.

_I really should tell them. I'm sorry._

Something in Izo's gaze softened. "You're welcome."

There was a thud next to Ace, and he turned to see Marco fast asleep with his head barely missing his mashed potatoes. The Phoenix mumbled lightly as he napped, oblivious to the world and that he almost got mush in his hair. Izo sighed and looked skyward while Thatch broke out of his melancholy and laughed openly. A few of the other Commanders joined in, more amused then worried about the First Division Commander because of the loud snores emanating from him.

Fossa chuckled and grinned at Ace. "It seems that you gave Marco your narcolepsy, eh Ace?"

_A fiery katana was shoved into his leg, pinning Ace to the ground. The fire-user barely flinched as the blade was yanked sideways, nearly severing his limb. The swordsman grew infuriated by the 'traitor's' reaction, and stabbed him through the hip._

The fire-user identified his tone as friendly. Teasing. Not hostile. Not accusing or judging.

Ace returned his smile and nodded. His eyes caught Thatch's, and the chef beamed toothily before he remembered who he was looking at. The Fourth Division Commander deflated instantly and dropped his gaze to his gravy as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Next to Thatch, Haruta sneered at his empty plate, stood up abruptly, and left without saying a word to Ace.

Ace felt something stir in his chest. He forced himself to eat another bite of chicken as he mulled over the feeling, trying to identify it. It was not quite sadness, or anger, or even the dull acceptance he had grown used to feeling. Instead it caught in his throat, almost making him choke on the meat he had just consumed, and he struggled not to cough and make Bay think something was wrong.

The fire-user had become quite good at hiding and burying his feelings. He had become accustomed to holding in or ignoring his feelings so that they could not overwhelm and imbalance him more than he already was. He had also become adept at 'forgetting' things that would hurt him more than something else, pushing them away like an unwanted assignment that could be completed at a later date.

But Ace could not stay in blissful denial forever, and was slowly beginning to comprehend that a certain friend he thought was dead was in fact alive, and that another one of his former friends apparently hated him.

Ace stared blankly at his food, stomach churning unpleasantly. If he were more naïve, he may try to blame the chicken for his sudden discomfort, but he knew that the cooks were above giving anyone spoiled meat. Suddenly everything seemed to be too close, the voices around him blurring into a low roar as the thousands of people pressed in around him. The fire-user's hand shook slightly but other than that he reigned in any physical reactions, refusing to have a panic attack in front of everyone.

Especially not in front of Thatch, who kept stealing glances at Ace as if he expected the fire-user to crumble into ash.

_Thatch is alive._

The fork in his hand fell to the plate with a startling clatter. Beside him, Marco jerked awake, sitting up and blinking sleep from his eyes. Ace stood from the table. The hall grew silent as everyone watched the fire-user walk around the table and pause before the frozen Thatch, staring at him expressionlessly. Izo moved as if to follow— and maybe hold back— the fire-user, only for the Phoenix to hold him in place. Ace could feel all of their eyes on him, but he only saw the nervous-looking chef sitting before him.

For a moment, Ace stood there unsure of what he wanted to do. His old confusion, joy, grief, and anger welled up again, with the fire-user unable to land on a single emotion. He distantly wondered what the Whitebeard Pirates would do if he punched Thatch, and felt a burst of defiant nonchalance at the thought of them attacking him. Then he remembered that this was reality, what he did would have consequences, and Thatch was his friend. The Summer Spirit finally settled on an emotion.

_Screw it,_  Ace thought, and hugged Thatch, arms wrapping securely around the older man.

The chef stiffened in his hold, just like Marco had done. He smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, just like Ace could vaguely remember. The fire-user could still feel everyone's eyes on him, but he was incapable of caring. He could just hear the sound of Thatch's heartbeat, and feel like pulse of blood in the chef's veins.

Thatch was alive. His friend was here. His friend had not been murdered. Ace could not be angry at him. It was inconsequential that seeking revenge for Thatch had caused the fire-user's death. Ace's death had been his own fault anyway, so he would never blame the chef. The Summer Spirit decided that he was happy to finally be back with his friends.

_I'm so glad you're alive_ , Ace thought, wishing he could tell the chef.

He supposed he could write the words, but doing so seemed impersonal. Thatch deserved better. He deserved to know Ace cared.

After a heartbeat, Thatch returned the embrace, arms wrapping securely around Ace's shoulders just like Jack's had so many years ago.

Ace felt safe.

Ace felt secure.

Ace felt wanted.

Ace felt…  _happy_.

Finally, after days, 'months', ' _years'_  of terror and uncertainty, Ace relaxed.

ROTGOPROTGOP

"Room!"

Law barely let the blue bubble expand before he switched with a nearby Nightmare, causing its kin to land on the doomed creature and tear it apart instead of him. Baby Tooth clung desperately to his shirt as he took off running once more, swiping his nodachi at any monsters that came near and deactivating his Room. He had to conserve as much stamina as possible. A feat that was easier said than done.

The surgeon could not decide if it was simpler or harder to be dashing through Pitch's lair alone. The overwhelming amount of enemies hunting the pirate and fairy was a problem, but at least he did not have to worry about protecting anyone else. Baby Tooth was right there with him— on him— so it was unnecessary to fear she might be left behind in the confusion. She even managed to help from her position by watching Law's back when his Room was inactive and chirping a warning whenever a Nightmare or Fearling tried to ambush him from behind. Which happened often.

The deep chasms, winding pathways and shadows only made thing more difficult for Law. The lair was more a maze then a cave, with caverns leading to nowhere, other halls leading to abysses, and still other paths that circled around back into danger. The surgeon was beginning to suspect that Pitch had somehow redesigned the place since the last time he had been here, turning the lair into a labyrinth. Most likely so the Nightmare King could just trap the invaders even more. The Heart Pirate would not put it past the Spirit.

Baby Tooth squeaked an alert and Law spun, slashing three Nightmares in half. Their sandy bodies crumbled into dust before the particles hit the ground. The surgeon kept moving deeper into the lair, darting to the right and watching as another group of Nightmares dove past him and into the abyss. Sadly the creatures caught themselves before they could hit the ground far below, flying back up towards the Heart Pirate with angry screeches.

The surgeon activated his Room and swiped at the lot of them, slicing a majority in half. Law turned the sphere off again and ran around another corner, descending down some stairs. He had no idea where his allies were. He  _knew_  he should have requested a piece of Luffy's vivre card before this mission. Though in hindsight, being separated from the Straw Hats like Law had was not something any of them considered. How could they have known that he would be captured and taken away through shadows?

Law skidded into another cavern and jumped when Baby Tooth gave a startled shriek. He looked left to see a horde of Fearlings floating towards him. He activated his Room, slashed, and switched with another unfortunate Fearling. If he were less jaded, the surgeon might have winced as the creature was literally torn apart by his pursuers. One wrong move and that would be him. Law really hoped the Straw Hats were still alive.

He kept running, breathing slightly labored, and cursed his body for its weakness. Law was by no means unfit, but he estimated he had been running and fighting for hours with no rest. Not even for a second. As a fighter who did not do much jumping and moving when battling, the unintentional marathon was doing nothing to help his energy levels.

A howl next to his ear made Law flinch and he spun, sword unsheathed, and decapitated the reeling Fearling that had been sneaking up on him. On his shoulder, Baby Tooth made a disgusted face, apparently having stabbed the murderous creature with her sharp beak. Her wings fluttered and clung to Law's shirt, lingering close to his neck. The surgeon took a moment to absently—  _not_  comfortingly— pat her on the head before taking off once more.

Law cursed mentally as he nearly ran smack dab into more Nightmares, bisecting the creatures before they could alert their kin. Screams and shrieks sounded behind him, making his skin prickle, and he leapt off a walkway, disappearing in midair before reappearing a few floors down. He looked up and saw the Nightmares circling like a swarm of large, angry bees. On cue they dove for him, still howling in excitement and rage.

The surgeon barely made it another step before something far-too similar to a hand wrapped around the wrist wielding his nodachi. He twisted, other hand rising, only for the Fearling to slam him headfirst into the wall. Stars danced before Law's eyes and his vision blurred and swayed sickeningly. He thought he heard Baby Tooth scream.

The Fearling grabbed his other wrist and lifted him off the ground, dragging the surgeon down the hall like a demon taking him to Hell. Law could just see a speck of turquoise flying frantically after them, and realized Baby Tooth had fallen from his shoulder. Before his head cleared enough to fight, other Fearlings assisted the first, wrapping their arms around the Heart Pirate and practically piling on top of him. And just like that Law was trapped.

His arms were pinned to his sides, his hands were grasped in vice-like grips, his legs were held together and his mouth and nose were covered. Law internally shuddered at the feeling of the cold, clawed appendage that prevented him from speaking and smelled like death. It was like a pillow made of shadows was covering his face, suffocating him.

Law instinctively struggled, trying to break free of the creatures, but he could not even twitch his fingers. He comprehended that the Fearlings may have partially figured out how his powers worked, and so were attempting to stop him from moving and speaking to activate them. The surgeon gave a furious, muffled shout against one Fearling's clawed hand.

When the Heart Pirate's blue Room did not activate, the monsters gave what only could be triumphant shrieks and laughter. The noise made the hair on Law's nape rise, and gooseflesh form on his skin.

Another Fearling approached the mob that was holding down the surgeon, and a couple moved off of Law, leaving his torso exposed. A thin split formed in the shadows that made up the creature's face, and the heart Pirate became aware that it was grinning. Its hand drifted over Law's stomach, sharp dagger-like appendages flexing. With a flick it ripped his shirt open, releasing another unnatural laugh as he unintentionally flinched.

Law kept his expression stoic. He had assumed that Pitch wanted him alive for some reason— likely to torment the surgeon— but now it seemed that the Nightmare King had decided to let his minions have him. He was not afraid, however. More furious and upset with himself. The Straw Hats were relying on him to get them out. What kind of frie— ally would he be if he doomed them all by dying like this?

Despite his thoughts and fury, Law dare not try to break free or move as the Fearling jeered at him. Its claws almost stroked his abdomen, not yet breaking the skin as nails that may as well be knives slid over his flesh. All it would take was a small flick of those sharp claws and he'd be gutted like a fish. Again the Fearling poked at him, careful not to impale him yet, and the monsters giggled and hissed, chortling like cruel children stabbing a bug with a stick.

The Fearling was taunting him and trying to make him afraid before it killed him. Law understood that. He did not fear these creatures, however. Or their master. So the surgeon stared straight into the Fearling's unnatural eyes and smirked mockingly, wishing he could move his fingers enough to flip the monster off.

Even without the ability to move, the creature seemed to understand his sentiment and its cackles and grin faded, replaced by what could only be described as a sneer. The Fearling bent its fingers, claws resting on Law's stomach, and the surgeon felt the smallest of pricks. He felt no fear, instead glowering at the monster with defiant grey eyes.

_Fuck you._

Pain— sharp and cold— ripped across Law's body, and for a moment he thought all of the Fearlings had slashed him at once. It scattered across his exposed skin, stabbing sharp and quick like tiny knives of ice. His vision went white as sharp pinpricks shot across his flesh, feeling as if he had been thrown into a blizzard. A loud roaring accompanied the onslaught and pounded on his eardrums.

Before the surgeon could wonder if he was injured or dying, the flashes of pain faded, though the biting cold remained. The roaring ceased as well, and Law gradually grew aware of someone… yelling?

"—ease be alive. Manny damn it! I did  _not_  just show up too late to save you.  _Come on_ , open your eyes!"

Law could not distinguish when his eyes had slipped closed. He swore he could still see the impossible white light that had blinded him, like the sight of it had burned its way into his retinas. The surgeon shifted and raised a hand to his head before letting his eyes flutter open. He blinked once, seeing nothing in front of him. But he swore that he heard someone. Someone had to be there. They had talked to him. The Heart Pirate blinked again, shaking his head to clear it, and when he looked again, he found himself staring into intense blue eyes.

"Oh thank Manny." The newcomer— who was wearing a blue sweatshirt with the hood pulled up— breathed. His voice identified him as male. "I didn't see any blood but I thought they might have still—"

He stopped speaking, gaze growing sharp as he looked to Law's exposed torso. The surgeon subconsciously wrapped his arms around his stomach, covering the spot where the Fearling had intended to impale him, and somehow his rescuer's blue orbs grew icier than they were before.

"Let me see." The newcomer snapped. When Law stared at him uncomprehendingly, he repeated his order. " _Let me see!_ "

When the surgeon still did not move, the hoodie-wearing person grabbed his arms and forced them away from his stomach. The Heart Pirate was too stunned to resist. His rescuer studied Law's abdomen intently for a long minute, thankfully not touching him, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"It didn't break the skin. You're not infected." He straightened, and Law found himself meeting sharp blue eyes. "Then again, if you were you would already be a Fearling by now."

Law filed that ominous piece of information away to be mused about later. His thoughts were currently caught by the blanket of ice and snow that now covered the area surrounding them, and the complete absence of the monsters that had been tormenting him. It was like a blizzard had passed through the cave, covering everything with snow. Questions about what the hell had just happened rose to the forefront of the surgeon's mind.

"The Fearlings…?" he asked uncertainly.

His rescuer's eyes were hard. "Iced 'em all. Damn cowards always like to gang up on people like that…"

He continued to mutter angrily under his breath and tapped the wooden staff he held on the ground. More ice formed on the stone around the tip, supporting his claim. Law nodded slowly, his mind finally accepting that he was out of danger, not about to die, and that he was currently safe. Maybe. The ambiguity of his situation and rescue dawned on the Heart Pirate at last and his naturally suspicious nature snuffed out his confusion. He took a breath, gathering himself, then stepped away from the ice-wielder and stared stoically at him with a hand on his nodachi.

"Who are you?" he asked dangerously. "Are you with Pitch?"

It was unlikely, but one could never just accept help from a stranger at face value. At least, Law could not. His savior's blue eyes lit up with rage and he tipped his head back so his expression was no longer shadowed by his hood, revealing a young pale-skinned face that lingered at the edge of adulthood and a furious snarl.

" _Never_." He spat with enough venom that Law could not doubt the validity of his claim. "I would never work with him."

The tension in the air grew, and Law gripped his nodachi tighter, wondering if the ice-wielder would attack him for his seemingly offensive question. A spot of turquoise caught his eye and the surgeon stiffened as Baby Tooth flew into the room, speeding towards the hooded person. Law briefly wondered if the fairy was partaking in a misguided attempt to protect him and stepped forward, a warning on his tongue.

"Don't—!"

Baby Tooth gave a happy squeal and flew into the newcomer's face, hugging his nose and cheeks as tightly as she could. The ice-wielder gave a surprised squawk before following it up with a cheerful laugh.

"B-Baby Tooth? It's you!"

The newcomer's previous ire was forgotten as he cupped the fairy in his hands, squeezing her gently in a smaller version of a hug. His icy blue eyes softened to a warmer shade, and he practically danced as he held her, grinning foolishly all the while. Baby Tooth clung to his thumb, chattering happily, and the ice-wielder nodded and smiled on cue, as if he could understand everything she said.

"I missed you too. I didn't know you were here. Is Tooth on this world as well?" he asked eagerly.

Baby Tooth shrugged.

The ice-wielder frowned. "I hope she is. We can use all the help we can get." He finally seemed to remember Law and where they were. He looked at the man. Bright blue eyes widened slightly. "Wait a minute. You can… Later." He shook his head, then offered his hand to Law. "Hi. I'm Jack. I'm a— I'm known as the 'Winter Spirit'. I'm here to save someone. Let's team up." He paused, then continued. "Sorry about the cold by the way, I was in a rush to get the Fearlings off of you so I accidentally froze you a bit."

The words were said quickly, bluntly, and in a way that slightly reminded the surgeon of his hyperactive ally. Despite his lack of knowledge on 'Jack,' his background, and his motives, Law immediately accepted the hand and shook it. Jack was offering to be an ally in a dangerous situation, so the surgeon would work with him for now. Besides, Baby Tooth seemed to recognize the 'Winter Spirit', so that was enough for the Heart Pirate.

"Apology accepted." The surgeon said without inflection. "I'm Law. I came here to rescue my friend's brother from Pitch Black, but I was separated from them."

Baby Tooth said something and Jack grimaced, visage darkening.

"You're with…" He trailed off. "Of course. I should have guessed as much. Come on. Let's go save Luffy and—"

" _Jackson Overland Frost!_ "

The Winter Spirit, Heart Pirate, and Fairy all tensed, only for Jack to immediately relax and rub the back of his head sheepishly.

"Guess they finally caught up. Oops." He leaned in and whispered in Law's ear. "I kinda flew off without them and left them on the beach…"

To Law's surprise, Sabo and Koala the Revolutionaries dashed into the cave, with the woman angrily punching a Nightmare into dust as they passed. Both were fuming, with the Logia literally burning with apparent rage. The orange-haired woman stalked up to Jack, who raised his hands in surrender and gave her a charming smile.

"Sorry?"

"You left us behind!" Koala snapped, finger jabbing into the Winter Spirit's chest. Law felt a burst of sympathy as Jack winced with every furious poke. "It only took a second to tie the boat up. You could have waited, idiot!"

"A second would have been enough for Law here to be a Fearling." Jack defended, pointing at the surgeon.

The two Revolutionaries spun to face the Heart Pirate, apparently just noticing him for the first time.

Sabo immediately went from outraged to sunny, shooting the Heart Pirate a grin. "It's you. Hello! Traffy, right?"

Law's eye twitched. "What are you doing here, Sabo-ya?"

The Logia grimaced and held up a piece of paper. What had to be Luffy's vivre card was burning at the edges, the ember-like pieces glowing in the darkness. However, it was also pointing to their left, still able to track the Straw Hat Pirate's location.

"We're here to save Luffy and Ace." The Revolutionary stated.

The eldest brother's name being mentioned instantly caught Law's interest, but Sabo continued before he could voice his newest set of questions. "We'll explain everything later. For now, let's go save my brothers."

He began to walk off, obviously believing the conversation was over and that more important things needed to be done. Law briefly met Baby Tooth's sorrowful gaze.

He hesitated then spoke. "According to Baby Tooth-ya, Ace-ya is no longer here."

Koala breathed in sharply. Sabo stopped walking. But it was Jack's reaction that Law noticed the most. The Winter Spirit went from cheerfully calm to angrily grim, eyes returning to their icier shade. The surgeon was shocked to see the horror and sadness that overcame Jack's visage, the warmth draining from him like sunlight on a cloudy day. A few words and prods from Baby Tooth made his expression smooth out but the grief— and fury— lingered. Before Law could ponder about it, Sabo spoke.

"Still have to save Luffy." He said resolutely. "And beat some answers out of Pitch."

"With pleasure." Jack growled, frost covering his staff.

Baby Tooth eyed him worriedly before flitting over to Law. To the surgeon's surprise, she settled on his hat, gripping it and giving an affirmative squeak. The weight was familiar, and Law frowned, eyes narrowing. Baby Tooth climbed onto the rim of his hat and looked at him upside down. She smiled adorably, widening her eyes and giving him an innocent look.

"You were on my hat before, weren't you?" Law asked flatly.

Jack noticed her perch and sniggered. Baby Tooth grinned sweetly at the surly surgeon, probably trying to appeal to the part of people that instantly forgave cute things. Law was not most people but he relented anyway, sighing.

"Fine. You can stay there. But I expect answers later."

She squeaked in agreement.

Two rescuers—now five— raced to find their missing friends.

ROTGOPROTGOP

It.

Wouldn't.

_Stop_.

Saying the images flashed before Luffy's eyes would be a lie. They did not 'flash'. They drilled into his skull like nails, stabbing and pushing their way into his brain as they  _made_  themselves be viewed by his consciousness. The visions lingered long enough for the Straw Hat Pirate to understand what he was seeing before harshly dragging him to another scenario, drowning him in a sea of fears that had no end. Some fears were his, many others were not, and yet even those that were not his own filled him with a terror he could not escape…

Words could not describe the joy Luffy felt in battle. He tore through enemies with ease, swords slicing through the fodder that had no hope of being a challenge to him like they were made of wet paper. Another group raced to face him and he met them head on, slashing their bodies and removing their limbs almost casually. Blood spurted from their wounds as they fell and more than one unfortunate minion plummeted— screaming— from the cliff they battled on.

There was a noise behind him and he spun to face the new foe with a grin, only to freeze when he caught sight of the newcomer. The young girl flinched, more startled than scared as the sword-wielding man towered threateningly over her. She raised her hands and instinctively stepped back… only to fall off the clifftop, plummeting to the ground faster than he could think to save her.

She hit the dirt hard, and even from this distance, he could hear the bones in her neck  _snap_. He stared at her broken form with shock, looked to the sky, and  _screamed_.

_Ace looked at Luffy defiantly, orange eyes hard and the barest hint of a mocking smile on his face. The Straw Hat Pirate felt rage simmer in his chest and he stalked forward, grabbing his brother by the throat and lifting him into the air. The smile vanished instantly as Ace struggled and gasped for breath, hands scrabbling at Luffy's as the pirate strangled him. He felt the fire-user's nails dig into his skin, and smirked to himself before slamming Ace into the ground. The floor cracked— along with a few of his brother's ribs, and Ace's mouth opened in a silent scream._

_I…_

Luffy watched helplessly as his bound and gagged nakama were shot one by one.

First a defiant Zoro.

Second a sobbing Nami.

Third a terrified Usopp.

Fourth a grim Sanji.

Fifth a blank-eyed Chopper.

Sixth a solemn Robin.

Seventh a silent Franky.

Eighth a shocked Brook.

Their bodies fell to the ground in splatters of blood, their unseeing eyes staring at Luffy almost accusingly.

And then it was his turn, cold metal pressing to his forehead. Luffy felt fear then, fear that could not be his own. It was like ice in his veins, freezing his limbs and making his breathing stutter. But how could he be afraid? He was not afraid of death. He had never been afraid of death. He was a D. And yet he trembled fearfully as a shadowy figure stood over him, a sadistic grin crossing its face.

The trigger compressed, and Luffy barely had time to feel a bolt of terror before the bullet ripped through his skull.

_Luffy kicked Ace in the stomach repeatedly, his own shouted words inaudible to himself as he lost himself to rage. The Straw Hats had escaped because of the foolish boy. His plan had been ruined because of his prisoner, a stupid child that should have been broken long ago. And then Ace had tried to_ _**escape** _ _. He tried to_ _**abandon** _ _Luffy. Just like everyone else._

_His brother curled up futilely, flinching with every blow, but he could not voice his pain even if he wanted to. A particular harsh strike to Ace's abdomen made a low squelching sound emanate from his gut, and the fire-user curled up, expression set in a look of pure agony. The foolish boy coughed up a clot of blood, and more crimson trickled from his mouth._

_I do…_

Everything was out to get Luffy. Monsters loomed over him. Enemies surrounded him. Shadows smirked at him. There were too many. He could not face them. They would kill him. His heartbeat quickened and sweat ran down his nose. His breathing grew rapid and his body shook.

The countless, powerful foes loomed. He ran. His fear granted him speed and he fled, but the monsters pursued. Stronger than him. Faster than him. Deadlier than him. Luffy could not fight them. He would never be brave enough to face such odds.

He was weak. He was useless. He was a liar. He was a fraud. He was scared.

He was always scared.

_Ace finally started to cry when Luffy began to break his bones and stab him. Each cut with the black sword he wielded was nonfatal, slicing up his brother's arms, legs, and torso bit by bit. Each finger was bent backwards until they snapped, one by one, followed by his toes, ankles, and legs. He watched Ace falter, writhe, weep, try to beg, make an effort to scream. The fire-user moved faintly, perhaps attempting to fight or get away, but Luffy was the one in control. He would not allow him to escape. He impaled Ace through the shoulder, making his body arch in agony. The floor was stained red._

_I do not…_

Luffy sat alone in a cell, a heavy iron mask on his face. Whispers rose up around him, distant voices calling him weak and unwanted as mocking laughter sounded in his ears. The more they whispered, the more he wondered if they were right. Was he as weak as they claimed? Was he a failure? Was he unwanted? Would he die alone?

Time passed. Days. Weeks. Months. Years. Not a single person came to see him. Not a single person thought to help him. Luffy gradually became aware of the ache in his stomach and the tiredness in his limbs. The weakness and exhaustion that only grew as the hours passed. And still no one came to him.

He sat, forgotten in the dungeon with no one to care, and slowly starved to death.

_Ace went limp, the fire fading from his eyes and leaving behind an empty, accepting look. He bore the visage of a person who knew they were going to die, but no longer had the strength to attempt to face death with a smile. He did not flinch anymore as Luffy kicked and punched and stabbed and broke him, his bruised skin splitting from the force of the blows that the Straw Hat Pirate rained down on his fading brother._

_A fierce strike sent Ace flying into the wall again and his head smacked into the stone, leaving another smear of red. Luffy took the opportunity to carve gashes through the tattoo the fire-user once wore with pride, defiling the mark of the boy's father with a sadistic glee. Ace barely moved. Luffy grabbed his weakly struggling brother by his throat once more, dragging him upright. He pressed the tip of his sword to his prisoner's bloody chest. Ace met his gaze, and fear flickered through his eyes as he comprehended what the pirate was about to do._

_I do not deserve…_

Luffy's crew looked at him coldly, sneers on their faces and fear in their eyes.

"Freak." They whispered.

"Coward."

"Unnatural."

"Abomination."

"You aren't one of us."

"You will never be one of us."

"We don't want you."

"Why would we want you?"

" _Monster_."

The last word was not said with nonchalance or the usual cheerful meaning that was special only to them. It was said with hatred, with fear, with disgust. They did not accept him. They would never accept him. No humans would ever accept him.

How could he fool himself into thinking they would?

_Ace's eyes widened with shock as the Straw Hat Pirate stabbed him right where Akainu had impaled him three years ago. The black sword went straight out his brother's back, exiting his body covered with red. The fire-user's trembled and choked like a fly pinned on the tip of a hook and he gaped down at the blade, eyes round._

_He reached up with a shaking and grabbed feebly at the hilt, unable to find the strength to grasp it. His actions smeared more red onto the Straw Hat Pirate's hands. Ace's dull orange eyes met Luffy's, filled with confusion and pain. The pirate smirked at his brother, and ripped the sword out of his chest._

_I do not deserve to…_

Luffy was alone.

The silence lay heavily over the island, as cruel and oppressive as a poisonous fog. He knelt before eight graves, each name etched crudely on the face of the stones, and could not prevent the tears from falling from his eyes. Luffy did not know how his nakama had died, but he knew it was his fault. He had not been strong enough. He had never been strong enough. He had not been strong enough to protect them.

Just like he was not strong enough to protect Ace.

_Ace slumped to the ground, body wracked by tremors and blood pooling around his shivering frame. He pressed feebly at the wound on his chest, crimson dripping from his moving mouth and between his fingers. Luffy watched him cling to life, watched him shudder and mouth inaudible words, watched him die. He slowly realized his brother was apologizing, and felt another flare of sadistic amusement. The sword in his hands became a spear, and he rose it above his head. Then he stabbed._

_Luffy was not kind enough to go straight for the kill. Instead he took cruel pleasure in driving the spear into Ace's stomach. Over and over he impaled the helpless fire-user, until the foolish boy's shuddering body went limp and his eyes grew sightless. The mangled, bloody chest that once desperately fought for air heaved a single time more, and went still. Now-dead eyes were trapped in an eternal expression of pain and sorrow, tears still dripping down paling, freckled cheeks and to the bloody ground below._

_Ace was dead._

_I do not deserve to be…_

"Pathetic, isn't it?" A silky voice whispered in Luffy's ear. "How Ace died? He could not even fight back. No noble sacrifice this time. All he could do was writhe and  _suffer_ like a lamb being slaughtered."

Luffy stared down at the blood-covered hands that were not his own, shoulders shaking and a terrible feeling building in the back of his throat. He wanted to retch, and scream, and cry, but instead he found himself sinking into the numbness he had experienced when he lost Ace the first time. Darkness crept into his vision, cold and suffocating, but the Straw Hat Pirate did not have the ability to either accept or reject its presence.

The darkness lunged, surrounding him, and Luffy plummeted into the abyss, heart in his throat. He hit the floor, gasping, and felt the absence of weight on his head. The pirate looked around frantically for his beloved straw hat and grabbed it, stumbling to his feet. Mocking laughter echoed around him, volume jumping from soft to loud eerily. It sank into his mind like the visions, clawing at his brain like nails on a chalkboard, and Luffy cried out aloud, pressing his hands to head as he nearly collapsed in agony.

Pitch happily drove the nails deeper into the pirate's coffin, sealing the frozen Luffy into his despair. "You could have prevented his death, you know. If you had not abandoned him, your brother would be alive right now. Isn't that a pity?"

Luffy blinked and new wet spots accompanied the red, tears dripping silently down his cheeks. His failure weighed heavily on his heart, unable to be ignored as it mocked him among the different hells that were the fears of his crew. Never before had a mission gone so horribly wrong for the Straw Hat Pirates. They had always managed to pull through when they were together, always facing terrible odds and accomplished their goals.

But this time, their goal had been long dead. This time, they had been effortlessly trapped, their deepest insecurities and fears exposed for all of them to see. This time, they came for nothing and succeeded nowhere because no matter how one looked at it, there was nothing to be gained except escaping with their lives.

Because even with his training, loyalty, and the Straw Hats' support, Zoro still felt burdened by his promise to Kuina. Because even with the Straw Hats' strength Nami still feared they all would die. Because even with great feats of bravery under his belt, Usopp still saw himself as a useless coward. Because even with companionship and plenty of food on the table, Sanji still remembered being hungry and alone. Because even with the Straw Hats' uplifting speeches and support, Chopper still worried he was a monster.

Because in the end, Luffy would always fail the people he cared about.

Just like he had failed Ace for the second time.

He let his brother die. He let Ace die alone, without comfort, suffering and unfree.

_I do not deserve to be Pirate King._

The darkness reached up to swallow Luffy whole…

…and shattered into shards of blue and white light.


	19. In Our Natures

Jack had forgotten how fun it was to fight with a group. For years, it had mostly been him and Ace versus the world, with the Winter Spirit providing subtle assistance in instances where they were accompanied by others in battle. Now the Guardian was in a group of five for the first time in more than twenty years, grinning and unafraid as they faced down hordes of Fearlings and Nightmares together.

The Winter Spirit took a little more pleasure from fighting the Fearlings than he usually would, smirking as he tricked them, trapped them, or blasted them apart. He was a trickster at heart but currently his taunts and mischief were a bit more furious and vengeful than playful. Pitch had kept Ace captive. The Nightmare King had kept Baby Tooth imprisoned. And now the Spirit of Fear had Luffy and his crew locked away somewhere, tormenting them with Manny-knew what kind of terrible fears.

In his opinion, the Guardian of Fun had every right to be a bit ticked.

The fact that Ace was not here only fueled Jack's simmering rage and as he froze another Fearling over with ice, he imagined a certain Nightmare King in its place. The Winter Spirit was done chasing Pitch and stumbling around blindly as the Spirit mocked him from the shadows. He wanted answers, and he wanted them  _now_. And the Spirit of Fear would give them to him.

Jack casually froze another horde of Fearlings, grinning in satisfaction as Sabo incinerated a separate group with his flames. Koala had taken to punching through enemies with a ferocity that told the Guardian he was still unforgiven for leaving her and the Logia behind on the beach. Luffy's friend— Law— was also doing his part, slashing through swarms of foes with relative ease now that he had more people to watch his back.

Sabo had quickly explained the surgeon's powers to Jack and the grey-eyed man himself had added that his 'teleportation' ability had been what the Straw Hats had intended to use to escape. The Winter Spirit  _really_  wanted to see the Heart Pirate's 'Room' in action but let the man keep his dwindling stamina for obvious reasons.

_That plan might still be needed o _nce we find Luffy and deal with Pitch__ , Jack thought, smashing a Nightmare into sand with his staff.  _Still, Law was lucky. Trapped in a lair full of nightmarish creatures that can kill him with a single slice, and yet he managed to avoid them and fight them off for hours. Humans on this world sure are tough._

He hoped that toughness applied to the Straw Hats as well. And that Pitch had not decided to turn them into Fearlings on a whim. Luffy was still alive— his vivre card proved that— but the states of his crewmates was ambiguous. They could be dead. Or worse.

_I hope they're okay. They seemed like nice people back in Alabasta. Besides, losing any of them would probably destroy Luffy…_

That train of thought brought Jack down a darkening path and his next ice blast completely blocked off a side-corridor, sealing the Nightmares within it inside. He felt a burst of heat behind him and turned to see Sabo tearing through the Fearlings blocking their way. The Logia was constantly burning, flames dancing down his sleeves and Luffy's burning vivre card clutched in his left hand. His movements were sharp, angry… and urgent.

"How are you feeling?" Jack asked.

"I'm determined, not scared." Sabo reported shortly.

"Same." Koala called as she decapitated a Nightmare with a well-placed strike.

The three had decided beforehand to monitor and share their mental states with each other while in the lair. Fear was their enemy— literally— and they needed to give Pitch as little advantage as possible. Jack's snowballs might be able to inspire a feeling of fun in others and ward off fear but he did not want to rely on them to help if someone was overcome by terror. The Nightmare King was so strong by this point that the Guardian did not know if his snowballs would even do anything anymore.

A Fearling leapt from the shadows in front of Jack and he blocked its attack with his staff, pushing the creature away with a blast of ice and wind. Law slashed it in half as it soared towards him and the monster dissipated into shadows. Nightmares took its place but the Guardian and Sabo destroyed them before they could get close.

The Revolutionaries were right. Determination was Jack's foremost emotion, with fear nowhere to be found. Instead the anger simmered, ready to boil over at any moment. More Nightmares and Fearlings were frozen and shattered by merciless snow. The vivre card led them down a confusing path, with the rescuers having to travel through many twists and turns as they ran to save the Straw Hats. Jack guessed that Pitch had intentionally taken them deep into his lair in order to reduce the chance of others saving them easily. Luckily for the Spirits and humans, while the Nightmares and Fearlings were numerous, in these halls they could only attack a few at a time.

The rescuers just had to be careful not to block their way in with glass or ice.

"Damn it!" Sabo shouted as he did just that. Haki covered his arm, and he punched the glass wall he had just created with all the rage of his element. "Let me  _through_!"

The sand-created glass shattered, breaking into pieces and Jack had to physically stop the blond Revolutionary from storming through it recklessly.

"You can't get cut!" he reminded the Logia. "If the sand gets in your blood, you'll turn."

Something haunted flickered through the Revolutionary's blue eyes before he nodded and proceeded with caution through the sharp shards. The others followed and Baby Tooth gave a warning cry as a Nightmare popped up behind Law. Koala struck the creature before it could attack. He returned the favor by stabbing a diving Fearling before it could sink its claws into her back.

They went down, further and further.

Left, right, left, left, down, right, left. Sabo was eventually forced to stay ignited to light their way, the lair growing darker and darker, but they did not grow worried. They did not become afraid.

And then they found them.

It was like a scene from a horror movie. The Straw Hat Pirates were suspended from the ceiling by black tendrils that covered most of their bodies with expressions of pure terror on their faces. Seeing the looks on Nami, Usopp, and Chopper were not unusual, but to see fear in Luffy, Sanji, and Zoro's eyes was unnerving and wrong.

Tears leaked from Usopp's closed eyes. Nami's breathing was more like hysterical gasps. Chopper was trembling and constantly shaking his head, mouthing denials. Sanji was as pale as a ghost. Zoro scowled and occasionally flinched, straining as if he were trying to back away from something. But it was Luffy who worried Jack the most.

The Straw Hat Captain was blank-eyed and slack jawed, staring straight ahead without seeing anything at all.

If not for his suspended position, he would look exactly like he had when Ace had died in front of him three years ago, that same brutal oblivion overtaking the rubber pirate and leaving him as helpless and unaware as a sickly baby. Sabo emitted a sound that was a mix of a wail and strangled gasp. He stumbled forward, hand ablaze, but Koala grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Don't." she said. "You don't have enough control yet. Besides, your fire might not even free them and that stuff could cling to you."

Sabo opened his mouth to protest but Law interjected before he could.

"Don't waste time bickering. We are better suited to fight the Fearlings and watch for Pitch."

The Revolutionary clenched his teeth but did not argue with the surgeon, turning and glowering at the shadowy hall like he was daring any Nightmares to show their ugly mugs. Unluckily for the creatures, some did. They were swiftly disposed of by a plume of roaring flames. Law refrained from attacking as well and let the Logia vent, instead keeping a hand on his nodachi as he surveyed the many shadows around them. Baby Tooth remained an extra set of eyes on his hat. The Guardian and the Revolutionary left them to it. Jack and Koala approached the comatose Straw Hats carefully, with the Winter Spirit reaching out to hold the orange-haired woman back.

"Whatever you do, don't touch the black stuff. If you do you'll probably be trapped or knocked out as well."

"Noted." She said testily, jaw locked with anger and disgust. "So what do we do?"

Jack leaned over and studied the black shadow-like gunk the pirates were suspended in. It was neither gas, liquid, nor solid, instead shifting between all forms as if it had none. It was nauseating and unsettling to observe, and looked like it was sucking in the light around it. More importantly, the longer he watched, the paler and more strained the Straw Hats were getting. They needed to get the pirates out. Fast.

"Law actually might be able to help. He's good at separating things." Koala mentioned.

Jack glanced at her. "Can he remove fear? If they're still afraid, the shadows might just latch right back onto them."

Her uncertain grimace was answer enough. The Winter Spirit and Revolutionary flinched as Luffy writhed in his confinements, back arching and tears leaking from his unseeing eyes. The Straw Hat's mouth opened in what had to be a wail, but no sound escaped him. Jack's skin crawled but he stomped out the fear that wanted to grip his heart.

_Forget 'fast'. We need them out_ _**now** _ _._

He formed snowballs in his hands, blowing on them gently and infusing them with magic. They turned from pure white to a whitish-blue. Koala watched him curiously, having never seen his 'fun snowballs' before, though her face held slight skepticism.

"Jack…"

"These things made  _Pitch_  smile and laugh for a second. Non-evilly." The Guardian said. "If these don't work, I don't know what will."

The orange-haired Revolutionary hesitated, then gave a nod. "Do it."

Jack formed enough snowballs for the six Straw Hats, gathering them in the crook of his left arm with one in his right hand. He inhaled and exhaled, remembering snow days, snowmen, sledding, snowball fights, and good times with Ace. Joyful times, adventurous times,  _fun_  times.

"Please let this work." The Guardian of Fun mumbled and threw the snowballs.

They connected with the Straw Hat's faces, exploding into bluish-white crystals. Jack swore the shadows  _shrieked_ , releasing their holds on the pirates like they were hot coals. The Straw Hats crumpled to their knees or fell onto their backs as they were dropped. They gasped like drowning people breaking the surface of the water, coughing and wheezing as they blinked bluish-white magic out of their eyes.

Reactions to the snowballs varied. Nami and Chopper gave startled giggles, caught between mirth and hysteria. A smile flashed across Sanji's face before it vanished. Zoro gave a relieved sigh, the tension in his body fading. Only Usopp and Luffy remained outwardly unaffected by the snow's magic. The sniper had stopped crying and awareness had returned to the Captain's eyes, but both stayed silent and pale as they sat on the cave floor.

The moment the shadows were gone, Sabo abandoned his guard position and dashed to his brother, kneeling before him.

"Luffy?" he called his name softly, then more loudly. "Luffy!"

The rubber man did not respond. Koala, Jack, and Law went to the pirates as well and the other Straw Hats finally noticed the newcomers— specifically the Guardian. Zoro stumbled to his feet, wobbly unsheathing his sword with the finesse of a heavily inebriated person.

"Who are you?" he growled, but his menace was greatly diminished by the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the unsteadiness of his stance.

"He's an ally." Law said before a fight could break out. "He's with Koala-ya and Sabo-ya."

The swordsman relaxed, but Jack guessed it was only because he was too tired to keep up the ominous front. Sanji dropped his defensive stance as well and turned to Nami, who was still sitting on the ground. The navigator was ashen and quivering, pupils the size of pinpricks.

"Are you alright, Nami-swan?" the cook asked urgently.

She nodded despite how obvious it was she was lying, gaze shifting to her Captain. Her tremors lessened greatly and she stumbled to her feet, heading over to him.

"Luffy, are you okay?"

The Straw Hat Captain did not appear to hear her. As his brother and navigator fussed over him, Zoro went to Chopper, lifting him up. The doctor did not protest about it, instead clinging to the swordsman as his wild eyes darted around nervously. Usopp got up on his own and went to Sanji, who patted the quiet sniper on the shoulder briefly. Then the chef focused.

"How did you find us? Who is this?" he demanded, gesturing at Jack.

The Winter Spirit went to respond but the Logia of the group interrupted before he could.

"We'll answer that later. First we need to get out of here." Sabo said.

The Guardian swung to face him. "We're  _leaving?_ " Jack demanded. "But Pitch—"

Sabo shot him a stern look. "We're  _leaving_. We can't win like this. Usopp and Chopper are  _afraid_ , Jack. And…"

He gestured vaguely at the Straw Hats. Nami was breathing heavily, clutching her chest. Usopp was still pale. Sanji grimaced occasionally, hand twitching towards his stomach. Luffy remained silent and subdued, eyes unfocused. The Straw Hats were in evidently bad shape and were in no condition to fight. Jack still wanted to protest.

"We  _just_  found Pitch. After this, he might smarten up and move his base. If he leaves, we might never be able to locate Ace—"

"Ace is dead." Luffy whispered, breaking his silence at last.

Jack and Sabo slowly turned to stare at the Straw Hat Captain, who looked blankly at his feet with the air of someone who could not connect with the world around them, instead drifting away as their body spoke on its own.

"Pitch killed Ace after I left him here." The rubber man continued hollowly. "He showed me it— He showed me  _how_ …" Luffy began to tremble, that horrific catatonic look returning to his face, but he rambled on. "Pitch beat Ace up, and broke his bones, and cut him up, and then Pitch kept  _stabbing_  Ace." The Straw Hat's eyes grew glassy, and a hysterical edge entered his voice. "Ace didn't smile when he died. He cried. He was in so much pain he  _cried_. He— He died  _alone_."

Jack went numb. Anger, worry, fear, frustration, and sorrow all washed away, leaving nothing behind but an endless emptiness. The Guardian could not believe what he had just been told. He refused to believe it. Because if what Luffy claimed was true, Ace was dead. His friend, his believer, his  _little brother_ , who he had known and cared for since Ace was an infant was  _dead_. Permanently this time.

All because of Pitch.

"Well done, Luffy. I think you broke him."

The Nightmare King peeled away from the shadows, accompanied by more Nightmares and Fearlings than Jack could count. The pirates, Revolutionaries, and Spirits instinctively gathered together, going back-to-back. The worryingly unresponsive Luffy was shoved in the middle, not even reacting to the Spirit of Fear's presence or words. Pitch only had eyes for Jack, looking at him with a savage hunger that made the Guardian's skin crawl.

"Jack Frost." The Nightmare King spoke his name like it was a delicacy he could not wait to devour. "I apologize for breaking my promise of killing dear Ace in front of you, but I'm afraid I lost control of myself." His eyes flickered to Sabo and Luffy and he grinned. "However, if you would accept a slight alteration, I believe that I can think of some close replacements."

The Winter Spirit's mind was too caught up in what he had been told to take in the threat, though the two Revolutionaries and a few of the Straw Hats certainly did. Zoro and Sanji inched closer to Luffy, and Koala did the same with Sabo. The Logia was paler than Jack had ever seen him, but he glared at Pitch with utter loathing and no trace of fear. Flames sparked to life on his skin.

" _You…_ " the Revolutionary growled.

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "So  _that's_  where Ace's old fruit went. I was wondering. No wonder you thought he'd hate you. And blame you for leaving him to die…  _twice_."

Sabo flinched and the flames on his shoulders extinguished. Jack snapped back into his body and stepped between the Nightmare King and the Logia, glowering at the Spirit of Fear. His shock was fading, giving way to a deep rage that was surprisingly unaccompanied by grief. It took a moment, but he realized he could not grieve for Ace like this. Hearing about his death… it was not enough. He could not believe the Summer Spirit was dead. He could not believe Pitch had killed him like that. Especially since…

Blue eyes narrowed to slits.

"If Ace is dead…" Jack said lowly, dangerously. "…Then show me his body."

Something flickered across Pitch's face. Next to the Guardian of Fun, light returned to Luffy's eyes, dark orbs seeking out the stoic, furious Winter Spirit as hope sparked in near-dead eyes.

Jack glared at the Nightmare King, expression challenging. "You promised me you would. But you can't, can you? Which means you  _didn't_  kill Ace." He aimed his staff at Pitch, frost crackling along the wood. "So  _where is he?_ "

Pitch met his glare and sighed. "You're no fun, Jack. Ironic, considering it's you. And you are correct. Your little…" A devious smirk crossed his face. "… _friend_  is still alive out there. I know where. But I won't tell you. I think it's funny to watch you fly around the world searching for him like a confused goose."

The Wind slammed the Nightmare King into the wall before Jack could. The Winter Spirit flew up to where the Spirit of Fear was pinned, ice crackling over his clothes and staff and his eyes burning with icy rage. He aimed the conduit of his power directly at Pitch's nose, blueish-white gathering at the crook.

" _Where. Is._ _ **He.**_ _"_

If Jack cared to pay attention, he may have noticed how his voice echoed, carrying a menace and weight akin to clouds hiding a deadly storm. He had believed he would be reunited with Ace soon. He had believed he would finally find his brother, and everything would be okay. He had believed wrong.

Ace was not here. Ace was out in the world somewhere. Ace was likely hurting, in pain, and alone. The Guardian was in no mood to partake in Pitch's manipulative games. He wanted answers, and he wanted them  _now_.

Too bad Pitch disagreed.

The Nightmare King smirked, yellowish eyes gleaming. "Do you think you can threaten me, Jack? Even more ludicrously, do you think you can  _scare_  me?" He grinned with too many teeth as shadows crept up the wall behind him. "You weren't there when I explained this to the pirates, so I suppose I must repeat myself. You  _cannot beat me_ when accompanied by  _cowards_."

Jack's instinctive shield of ice barely slowed the Fearlings as they lunged for the Winter Spirit. The Guardian was thrown out of the air as they struck him, slamming him into the ground with enough force to make it crack. His breath was forced from his lungs with a whoosh and as the creatures bore down on him, Jack could only lay there, stunned. A blast of fire from Sabo prevented the Fearlings from continuing their attack, but they and the Nightmares still swarmed, filling the air above the intended rescuers with writhing darkness.

Freed of the Wind and Jack's holds, Pitch casually flicked his hands and a wave of black sand rushed towards the humans and Spirit. The Guardian swiped his staff and a wall of ice shielded the pirates and Revolutionaries from the blast. There was an ominous rumble as the sand beat against the shelter. He saw hairline cracks forming in his ice and his stomach dropped.

"Run." He said to his allies, who did not move, staring at the growing tsunami with wide eyes. " _Run!_ "

Law regained his bearings and suddenly the rescuers vanished. They reappeared in time to see Jack's shield shatter, the wave of sand overcoming the place where they had just been. The swarm did not stop, continuing after them like a flood, and the Guardian grabbed the closest Straw Hat— Luffy.

"Come on!"

They ran with the sand filling the halls behind them. Usopp gave a terrified shriek as it nipped at his heels like a wolf, but Zoro grabbed his arm, dragging the sniper along and out of the substance's reach. Sabo took the opportunity to send a plume of flames at the sand and the front layers were transformed into glass.

The fleeing rescuers' relief was short-lived as the sand blasted through the obstacle, continuing its pursuit. The Winter Spirit kept his hold on Luffy and took off again, with the humans following suit. Jack spotted a few side-caverns ahead and blocked them off with thick ice, hoping to prevent more enemies from appearing and trapping them on both sides. His foresight proved to be beneficial as Nightmares and Fearlings slammed against the barrier, glaring at the escapees through the clear substance.

Sadly, he could not stop them all. The humans and Spirits did not slow as Nightmares and Fearlings blocked their path, diving for the escapees with unearthly shrieks. Jack dodged one such attack and Luffy reactively punched the Fearling through the head, dispelling it.

"Make sure to stay together." The Guardian ordered as he brought his staff down on a Nightmare's head. "Pitch may seal the exit behind us."

Luffy nodded even as he was dragged along by the Winter Spirit, then turned his head unnaturally to look at Law. "Traffy, can you get us out yet?"

"Not yet." The surgeon said, grunting as he blocked a Fearling's strike.

A Nightmare lunged for the Heart Pirate's back, but Zoro bisected it before it could reach him. The next Nightmare nearly bit the swordsman's face off but Sanji destroyed it with a kick. Jack swore flames appeared around the First Mate as he glared daggers at the cook.

"Don't interfere in my fights, shitty cook!"

Sanji snarled right back. "If you want you lose your other eye, be my guest Marimo!"

Startling them all, Luffy  _laughed_  from his position in Jack's hold. A wide grin flashed across his face and he looked directly at Sabo.

"Sabo,  _Ace is still alive_!" he cheered.

The black sand halted for a single moment, but it was enough for the Guardian to block off the path behind them, separating them from the pursuing creations of Fear. The ground shuddered as the sand beat against the ice wall, and once again cracks spread in the thick blockage. Dust fell from the ceiling with every blow, and small pieces of ice fell to the floor and shattered.

Jack blinked and they were elsewhere, three floors up if he could guess correctly. A blue sphere expanded from Law's hand and again they vanished, appearing above ground. They teleported once more just as the ground beneath them exploded. Sand, Nightmares, and Fearlings shot up from the caverns below, pouring into the open air like a hellish geyser.

"So much for avoiding them…" Usopp squeaked.

He screamed as a Fearling went for his throat, sharp claws poised to rip out his jugular. Law did not ask for permission or waste time explaining, instead moving the humans, Fairy, and Spirit to a new position. The sniper nearly sagged in relief as he was swept out of danger but was kept on his feet and pulled along by Sanji.

Law accidentally brought a couple Nightmares with them but Jack and Sabo dispatched of the creatures before they could gain their bearings. A Fearling appeared from the shadows, targeting the surgeon and Nami intercepted it this time, knocking its head off with her staff.

Two more went for Usopp— who gave another yell. A punch from Luffy dissipated the monsters. The future Pirate King gave another laugh and took out a dozen creatures of Fear with a single blow from his stretching arm. The Nightmares and Fearlings stood no chance against the smiling, cackling Straw Hat, and Jack found himself cracking a grin as he watched the rubber man gleefully fight.

"Ace is alive out there!" He proclaimed out loud, as if he wanted to share the words with the whole world. The air around him practically sang with his infectious joy and he gave a whoop. "Ace is alive and  _free_!"

Abruptly, the Nightmares and Fearlings stopped appearing with the humans and Spirits. It was likely because Law was being more careful.

_Or maybe because of something else_ , Jack mused.

A few attempted to chase the pirates down through the air, but soon enough the Spirits and humans were on the deck of the Straw Hats' ship. Crewmembers the Guardian did not recognize—  _Is that a skeleton? Cool!_ — immediately brought the ship out to sea. Jack waited tensely for a wave of Fearlings or even Pitch himself to pursue them, but surprisingly not a single black speck dove at them from the air. The Guardian glanced at the sunnily grinning Luffy and had a feeling he knew why.

And then they had time to breathe.

Usopp collapsed to his knees, covered in sweat and laughing weakly in unstable disbelief. "We made it out. We're still alive!"

Next to the sniper, Chopper appeared to be torn between dancing for joy and laughing hysterically, the look on his face suggesting he could not believe they had all made it out in relatively one piece. Law sat down heavily against the mast, brushing off Baby Tooth's worried squeaks, and was instantly asleep. Zoro took that as an excuse to follow suit, much to Sanji's annoyance. The blue-haired guy who was steering the ship finally noticed the added people and missing person from their group, and spoke in a low voice.

"Sabo, Koala, and…" He blinked at Jack. "…white-haired bro are here? But where's Ace-bro?"

Luffy's smile faded. "He wasn't there. But he's alive. We just have to find him."

Jack could only marvel at the Straw Hat Pirate's simple-minded optimism. All it took for him to bounce back was the news that his brother was indeed not dead. Even after what he had been subjected to, Luffy still prevailed and moved forward with the same strength and stubbornness he always had.

It was then that the Winter Spirit finally realized what had happened. He had touched Luffy.

He had dragged him around Pitch's lair.

The Straw Hat Pirate had seen him.

That meant he— he—

Jack looked at Luffy.

Luffy looked at Jack.

The Guardian smiled. _He remembers—_

The Straw Hat Pirate grinned back. "Thanks for the help, Ice Guy. Who are you anyway?"

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace still could not believe this was real.

Everything was going too well for him to accept that. He had not fallen asleep since escaping the blizzard nightmare. He had been freed from the stressful infirmary, though he still had to return for check-ups. None of the Whitebeard Pirates had hated or been disgusted with him upon their reunion— to his face at least. He had even succeeded in getting other people to watch over him— specifically Thatch, Izo, and a couple others— so Marco and Bay would not strain themselves. It was all going too smoothly. Something had to go wrong. He was not lucky enough for his life to let him be happy for long.

Ace did his best not to worry, however. If he did not worry, he found that he could actually almost enjoy himself as he hung out with Marco, Bay, Izo, or Thatch. He was not quite comfortable enough to be alone with anyone else yet, but could not push himself to extend his trust more so soon after the last leap of faith.

Many offered to watch over him though. Ace suspected they missed him and wanted to see him. Especially Whitebeard. The Yonko had been giving quite a few subtle and not-so subtle hints that he wanted to speak with the fire-user somewhere private but the Summer Spirit did not have the mental fortitude to meet with him alone yet.

The fire-user was ashamed to admit that he was still wary of Whitebeard, even with Marco's constant reassurance that the Yonko loved and would not harm him. The 'memories' of broken bones, torn skin, and ruptured organs had blended together with Ace's real memories of the aftermaths of trying to assassinate the giant, confusing the Summer Spirit further and making him question which instances had been malicious and which had been done in self-defense and thus his own fault.

Ace wanted to discuss the matter with Marco, but felt incredibly awkward and uncomfortable with the idea. Even before the nightmares the fire-user always felt bitter and remorseful whenever he thought about his failed attempts to assassinate the man who would become his father and knew that he deserved every single injury he received during those attacks. Ace just could not recall which of the now-thousands of 'interactions' had been real, only able to dismiss a few of the wounds he had received from Whitebeard as fake because they had been fatal.

He could not talk about it with Marco, as much as he wanted to. The Phoenix was understanding, listened, and did not rebuke Ace for his false memories and problems, but he did not seem to comprehend that to the fire-user, every strike from Whitebeard— and so many others— had been real. He had 'lived' through their taunts and torture— unless he didn't. He had felt every blow, accepted every insult, and endured more attacks and beatdowns than he had experienced in all his years as a human.

Ace just could not claim all of the attacks had been fake. He knew Whitebeard had hurt him— to defend himself as he should— but he could not think of where to draw the line between 'defense' and 'cruelty'. The real Yonko would never be cruel to him. He would never go so far. The fire-user knew that. But  _where_  was the line so that he could try to tell the difference between memories and 'memories'?

_Regardless, it was my fault_. Ace reminded himself.  _I was the idiot who kept trying to kill Whitebeard. It's a wonder he could ever forgive me— that_ _ **any**_ _of them could forgive me for what I did._

The fire-user glanced at his companions, who luckily had not noticed his morose mood. He was sitting by the mast with Thatch and Izo at his sides, the two Whitebeard Pirates arguing lightly while Ace listened in. Apparently the chef had borrowed the okama's hair gel without permission or something. The Summer Spirit was more interested in the clear blue sky above than their topic of conversation, but he supposed listening was only polite.

It had not taken much convincing to get them to let Ace be on the deck, though Thatch had insisted that they stay away from the railings for some reason. It was quite peaceful and no one paid the fire-user any special attention, instead occasionally saying hello before continuing with their business. The Summer Spirit was horrified to discover that he could not remember most of their names, but his muteness managed to cover up that little fact nicely so he did not let himself brood over it and risk alerting Thatch and Izo to his problem.

_I almost feel like I'm the newbie again. Meeting everyone, being shown the ropes, trying not to step on anyone's toes... Except I'm not new. I just have a memory that's been shot to hell and a psyche so damaged I can't stand to be alone with a majority of the crew._

He still could not understand how they could tolerate him and want him to be around.

At least Thatch was back to being the ball of sunshine Ace vaguely remembered. If the chef was not busy, he was with the fire-user. If he was not with the fire-user, he was likely finding a way to try to turn Marco's hair grey. Rather than join in on the man's 'fun', Ace observed and smiled like a parent indulging a small child. Thatch would likely be highly offended by the comparison, but the thought— like so many other things— remained locked inside the mute Spirit's mind where it could not anger anyone.

But Ace did not intend the thought to be an insult. He was honestly just happy to see Thatch alive and being his usual self, bouncing back from Teach's attempted murder and moving on with his life. Unlike the fire-user.

_It seems like the past can only hold me back. And scare me. And confuse me._

If only the Whitebeard Pirates knew that the 'past' would soon include them.

" _Hey guys! I really did die but now I'm a Spirit. I'm going to have to leave you all again soon. Sorry about that."_

Ace did not think he would ever be able to share the words. His notebook lay at his side if he ever wanted to but he felt it was best for them to remain captive in his brain where they could not hurt or anger anyone. His name being called drew the fire-user's thoughts away from his future, and he nodded to Vista as he approached. The Fifth Division Commander smiled at him as he sat in front of Ace, surprisingly excited.

The fire-user took a moment to note that he was now surrounded on all sides—  _Mast behind, Izo right, Thatch left, Vista front_ — and plot an escape route—  _Small fire blast for cover. Fly straight up_. Then he remembered that this was reality and he was surrounded by friends so such plans were unnecessary.

He still kept the idea for his escape route.

"Hello, Ace!" Vista greeted warmly, still holding back his eagerness. "How are you on this fine day?"

_The swordsman screamed at him furiously, voice filled with grief and loathing as he mercilessly attacked the fire-user. The Commander's tone was as vengeful as it was distraught, every word tremulous but unforgiving as he blamed Ace for everything the Whitebeard Pirates had lost. The Summer Spirit did not bother to dodge the blows, knowing he deserved every injury he received._

Ace smiled cordially and gave a thumbs-up.

"Great." Vista nearly chirped. "These are for you."

He took his hands from behind his back—  _If attacked fly up_ — revealed to be holding a pair of black boots. Ace stared at them for a long moment and did his best not to tense. He then noticed everyone looking at him expectantly and reached out, careful not to touch Vista's hands as he took the shoes. The fire-user studied them, noting that they looked almost exactly like the old ones he had. The ones that he had removed and lost in Pitch's lair.

Ace's stomach twisted into knots.

"We couldn't find a pair exactly like your old ones, but these are close." Vista said, not detecting Ace's discomfort. "Got your size though. We had them mailed in. They just arrived."

The swordsman looked so happy to be able to give the fire-user the boots. They were shiny and new, so unlike the scuffed, weathered ones Ace had once worn. He... didn't want them. He had been without them for years—  _months. It was actually months._ — and the thought of wearing shoes again was off-putting. The Summer Spirit looked up, ready to decline the gift, and froze under the hopeful gazes of his peers. They would be upset, confused or maybe even hurt if he refused the shoes.

How could explain that they seemed to be too heavy in his hands? How could he share that he liked the feeling of bare feet, of being able to freely wriggle his toes and feel the wooden deck beneath his soles? How could he tell them that laces were a nuisance and shoes would feel restricting and wrong? How could he inform them that he did not want to be reminded of the past, and these boots that looked just like his old ones were doing a grand job of making him recall things he would rather not?

Maybe it was a Nature Spirit thing, Jack had rubbed off on him, or the familiar look of the boots themselves, but Ace despised the thought of wearing the shoes. In fact, he  _hated_  them. They were modeled after the ones he lost, after ones that he had owned back when he was a Whitebeard Pirate.

Was this a hint that they expected things to go back to the way they were? Did everyone think he could just  _rejoin_  the crew like nothing had changed? Ace had changed, and he could not go back. He was a Spirit now, he would have to leave eventually, and his brain was a mess. Did they think everything would be  _fine_?

Ace scowled at the boots, an illogical fury igniting in his chest… and in his hands. Vista gave a yelp of surprise as the shoes burst into flames, scrabbling backwards. The Summer Spirit felt a surge of triumph as the unwanted reminders burned to ashes, before quickly comprehending that he had just destroyed the swordsman's gift to him.

_**Oh.** _

Instead of smothering his flames, the panic made them stronger, fire licking up Ace's arms and torso. Vista, Izo, and Thatch leapt away as Ace combusted, the inferno covering his entire frame as he instinctively shielded himself. It was almost like his powers were following his subconscious thoughts instead of his conscious mind, the fire-user externally tense while he was distantly freaking out in the back of his mind.

The swordsman  _would not_  hurt him for incinerating the shoes. If he tried, surely Thatch and maybe Izo would stop him. Ace knew this. He did. But he could not stop the fear. He could not stop the flames. He couldn't he couldn't _hecouldn't_ —

_Calm down. Calm down. Don't freak out. I'm in front of everyone. I can't do this here. I'm past this. I-I-I I got better. I'm better. I'm fi—_

Something closed around his wrist.

Seastone manacles.

Someone shackled him.

_What did I do wrong?_

Ace's reaction went from panicked to terrified. The flames surged slightly, expanding as they heated up and melted the seastone. The person who chained him cried out in shock, hopefully stumbling away. Luckily the fire did not strike them. At least, Ace hoped it did not. He could not tell. His vision was covered by a blur of orange and all he could hear was roaring flames and distant bellows. Ace did not intentionally lash out. He could not attack. This was real. The Whitebeard Pirates were real.

If they chained up Ace he must have done something wrong. Their rage was justified. He was probably burning the deck right now. Not people. Please let him not be hurting people. If he could not stop the fire they would sedate him. They would sedate him and he would go unconscious. That would trap him in nightmares.

Did they know that? Did anyone other than Marco? Marco had to stop them. Ace could stop the flames himself. He could. He was better than this. The Summer Spirit tried to extinguish the blaze but they refused to listen to him, surrounding him like a cloak and keeping the Whitebeard Pirates away.

_I got over this. I know they won't hurt me unless I do something wrong. But they just_ _ **handcuffed**_ _me._ Ace put his fiery hands to his head, pressing them against his forehead as he rocked back and forth.  _Don't blame them. It's my fault. I deserve it. I deserved all of it—_

Then someone was there, in the fire with him. They were  _burning_ , surrounded by blue flames. Oh Manny he was  _killing someone_  he had to stop he had to—

Arms wrapped around Ace's shoulders, blue flames mingling with orange, and the fire-user was pulled to the other person's — _Marco it's Marco he won't hurt me pleaseI'msorry_ — chest. The Phoenix was not burning, or he was and his flames were immediately healing him. The Summer Spirit prayed that the former was the case, but still tried to pull away from the First Division Commander to protect him from himself. Marco held him in place, refusing to let go, and murmured just loud enough to be heard over the fire.

"You're alright, Ace. You're safe. No one is going to hurt you here. You're okay, yoi."

_No I'm not_ , Ace thought, but felt himself calming anyway.

Marco was here. Marco was real. Marco was his friend, and would definitely not harm him. He might be mad that Ace torched the shoes, but he would not punish the fire-user for it. Not too badly. Right?

The air around Ace cooled, and the fire finally died, leaving him exposed once more. He looked down at the black scorch marks on the deck and swallowed roughly, biting his lip. Marco surveyed the damage as well and stepped away from him. The Summer Spirit looked up, stiffening when he saw the resignation in the Phoenix's blue eyes. It was such a recognizable look to the fire-user, one he had seen many times before.

_That doesn't mean anything. This is real. Marco cares about me. He won't just—_

"I think we need to go see Oyaji, yoi." Marco said tiredly.

Ace's heart sank. How many times had he heard those words said in that same, exhausted tone? He knew what it had to mean. He just did not want to believe it.

_He's giving up on me. He's going to tell Whitebeard I'm dangerous and useless and not worth the trouble. Just like 'he' always does. But this is real. Things are permanent._ The fire-user felt a tendril of fear and tried to use logic to expel it.  _They won't kick me off the crew for_ _ **this**_ _though, right?_

Ace looked around and wished he could turn invisible at will. Thatch was wide-eyed and pale, staring at the fire-user like he had never truly seen him before. The normally strong and cheerful Vista looked close to tears. Izo was sporting a burnt kimono, the blackened edges on his clothes nearly identical to one of the nightmares where Ace had lost control of his powers and destroyed the Moby Dick. Others were gaping at the Summer Spirit with open shock.

But it was Haruta who caught Ace's attention. The Twelfth Division Commander was nursing reddish burns, looking at the fire-user with round eyes. The marks wrapped around his right arm, almost as if a tendril of flame had tried to grab the Commander by the limb. When orange orbs met blue, Haruta's hardened and narrowed, a furious sneer crossing his features. Ace's mind screeched to a halt before it began to scream denials.

_This can't be real. This has to be a nightmare. It has to be._

… _It isn't._

"Come on." Marco said lowly.

The First Division Commander picked up Ace's notebook and grasped his bicep— _knives glass hurts_ — guiding him away from the destruction. As they walked, Bay and a nurse rushed by to help the injured. The fire-user did not resist, allowing himself to be lead to Whitebeard. His fear was dwindling into his usual numbness, and he could not be more grateful for his default apathy. Except this was not a nightmare. This was reality, and concrete, and there would be no waking up from the things that happened here.

He remembered Whitebeard snapping his neck. He remembered the Yonko burying him alive. He remembered the giant watching coldly as his mark was whipped from Ace's back. He remembered less drastic injuries, bruises, cuts, broken bones, and repeatedly being beaten down or thrown into the sea. He remembered Whitebeard saying how disappointed in Ace he was, how disgusted he was, and that he never should have taken the fire-user as his son.

Ace's apathy took the opportunity to abandon him, leaving behind a building hysteria.

_I-I'm overreacting again. Real-Marco said Whitebeard won't hurt me, no matter what. I'll be fine. I'm scared for nothing._   _It's fine. Even if they kick me off the crew, I can just go and search for Jack, Luffy and Sabo on my own,_  Ace thought consolingly.  _I… can…_

He thought this before. He  _knew_  he had thought all of this before. It was just like a nightmare… but it wasn't. Not this time.

_I h-hurt them. I hurt Haruta. I actually_ _**hurt** _ _—_

Ace's throat seemed to close, his lungs unable to bring in air, and he nearly choked. He refused to do more than make a soft retching sound as his body denied his need to breathe, his shoulders jerking slightly as his skin grew ashen. Unfortunately, Marco noticed his distress. The Phoenix stopped in the center of the hall, turning to Ace and meeting his eyes.

"Breathe, Ace. Just breathe. In and out, yoi." He soothed. Then he paused, eyelids lifting slightly. "Has… Has this happened before? In your nightmares?"

Ace nodded while simultaneously trying to control his frantic intake of oxygen. Marco's expression rapidly shifted through horror, loathing, and disgust. The fire-user accepted that it was directed at him. It was always at him. The First Division Commander handed Ace his notebook and pen, probably wanting him to write something, but the fire-user did not even open it.

"Look at me." The Phoenix ordered.

Ace reluctantly did.

"I am not taking you to Oyaji so he can punish you. I  _swear_  I'm not, yoi." Marco said firmly. "But you just accidentally damaged the ship and… and injured a brother. I don't know why that happened. Only you do, and I  _need_ you to explain what happened to our father, all right?"

Ace felt lower than dirt. He wanted to protest, and say he could explain it to Marco instead of having to face Whitebeard's potential and very likely wrath, but a small fact kept him from pleading his case and convincing the Phoenix to pass on his words instead of seeing the giant himself. Haruta had been hurt by the fire-user. Ace had lost control, and the Twelfth Division Commander had been burned.

It did not matter that Haruta had put seastone on him. Ace had been a threat to the Whitebeard Pirates and their home. The short Commander was just protecting his family and had been burned for his efforts. The fire-user had needlessly retaliated and hurt a comrade— someone everyone else thought was a  _brother_. No wonder Marco wanted him to explain himself to Whitebeard. Ace could not just go unpunished for hurting one of the Yonko's sons.

_I'm a monster._

He placidly let Marco drag him along, everything feeling less real than ever before. Could Ace have fallen asleep on accident again? It could have happened. Maybe he had drifted off without catching it. The fire-user wanted to stay in his little bubble of denial, but with every step found it harder to cling to the hope he was once again in dreams.

_This is real. It's all real. What if Whitebeard gets angry? Who am I kidding? Of course he'll be angry. Should I try to get away before we reach him? …No. I can't run again. I'll face whatever happens with dignity. I was able to do it all the times before._  He gulped.  _Stop being a drama queen. It won't be that bad._

Marco knocked on the Yonko's door. "Oyaji, I'm here with Ace."

"Come in."

The door opened. Marco entered. Ace followed, wiping his sweaty palms on his shorts. Whitebeard was sitting in a chair, hooked to a variety of machines. The fire-user had wondered why he had not been out on the deck like usual, and guessed that the nurses had ordered him to stay out of the sun for the day. The Summer Spirit let his gaze drift over the beeping and hissing machines, purposely not looking at the Yonko.

"Have you finally come for to visit your father?" He heard Whitebeard ask.

The fire-user internally cringed and lowered his head.

Next to him, Marco sighed. "Afraid not, Oyaji. Ace… had a little trouble up on deck. He burst into flames and Haruta was burned. Second degree on his arms and hand. Bay was going to look him over."

The blond pirate spoke not as Ace's friend, but as the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. His choice of tone did not help the fire-user's nerves, and Ace could not shake the feeling that he was being put on trial and would soon find himself removed from the Moby Dick. He could feel Whitebard's yellow gaze on him and lowered his head further, chin nearly touching his chest and his hair falling to cover his eyes.

_Coward. I can't even face him._

"I do not think you are one to attack a brother intentionally," Whitebeard said calmly. "Would you like to explain what happened?"

Ace studied his bare toes, and felt another surge of loathing for the boots that started all of this. He quickly changed his tune and placed the blame on himself, where it should be. He overreacted. He panicked. He threw a tantrum and destroyed a gift from a friend. It was his fault.

The fire-user fumbled with his notebook and opened it to a new page, pen quivering just above the sheet. He tried to think of a way to share his thoughts and fears without making them worry— or angry— and himself seem pathetic. Ace eventually wrote about the shoes, and how he did not like them, and how they reminded him of Pitc— the past and he did not intend to burn them and he was sorry that he was ungrateful and destructive and he did not mean to hurt Haruta the seastone just reminded him of Pi—

A hand wrapped around his waist and pulled him upward. Ace stayed as still as a kitten that found itself being carried in a wolf's jaws as Whitebeard lifted him, setting him on the chair arm beside him. The fire-user stared at the Yonko, heart in his throat, but the giant merely settled more comfortably, hands returning to his lap.

"That will be easier. Then you will not have to move as much for us to converse, hmm?" Whitebeard said.

Ace looked up at him with huge eyes, skin blanched white.

_Coward_ , he berated himself.  _Marco said he won't hurt me. I was fine with sitting near him earlier… when there were more people around… and he probably would not kill me…_

The Yonko spotted his trembling and sighed heavily.

"Oh, my son. What did that bastard do to you, to make you fear me so?" Whitebeard asked softly.

Ace dropped his gaze.  _He knows about Pitch? Does he? How does he know? He couldn't possibly— Wait, Marco knew. …How did_ _ **he**_ _know? I didn't ask. Or did I? I don't remember._

Instead of seeking answers to his questions, he shoved the notebook at Whitebeard, who took it gracefully and read. The Yonko's expression only shifted the slightest bits, never growing angry, and he sighed lowly.

"I do not blame you for your fear, my son. But your lapse in control concerns me. Fire is quite the dangerous element… and yours no longer comes from a Devil Fruit, does it?"

Ace froze.  _This can't be happening._

It was clear what the giant wanted him to say: The truth.

He was out of time. Out of time, out of luck, and out of his granted, merciful reprieve. Ace always knew that the pirates would push for answers eventually, but he had fooled himself into thinking they would be content to wait forever. The fire-user was not ready to explain. He might never be ready. But he could not ignore the Yonko's request of an answer, nor could he deflect or lie.

There was one thing he could control, however.

" _I'll tell you. Just you."_  Ace wrote and handed the notebook to Whitebeard, who spoke his request aloud.

Marco's expression shifted and he could not hide his— Worried? Hurt? Upset? Angry?— expression before the fire-user spotted it. His guilt for excluding the Phoenix was overcome by his discomfort and other rampant emotions. While Marco told Ace that he could do anything short of betrayal and be anything short of a monster and Whitebeard would forgive and love him, the Summer Spirit could not believe it.

Ace was a resurrected Nature Spirit. He had abandoned the Whitebeard Pirates and refused to show himself to them for three years. He would soon abandon them again, through his new job or death. Not only that but he had shamed Whitebeard's name by being captured— twice. His first capture caused Marineford, the decline in the Yonko's health, and the following loss of land to Blackbeard. His second capture had ruined Ace personally, making him an unstable burden to the crew he would not be able to join again for long.

How could Whitebeard accept all of that? How could he ever want someone with all that trauma and baggage that would go running off to another world not far in the future anyway?

"Marco, my son. Please leave us." the Yonko ordered gently.

The Phoenix hesitated before nodding, and bade a hasty retreated. Ace mentally apologized, but relaxed nonetheless. At least now Marco would not be around to see it if Whitebeard rejected the fire-user. The Summer Spirit began to debate whether to dodge or not if the Yonko attacked him.

"All right, my son." Whitebeard said after a pause. "What is it that you wish to share with me?"

Ace made himself write, forcing the letters onto the page one by one. He had to own up to his situation and reality, and share the truth regardless of the consequences. He could not keep his secrets forever, no matter how much he wanted to, and it would be best to reveal them now where there was no one to get caught in the crossfire.

" _I'm not human anymore."_ Ace's hand shook so badly the words were barely legible.

He lifted the notebook to Whitebeard, who leaned over to read. The Yonko was so close that Ace knew if he went to grab the fire-user, he would be unable to dodge and get away fast enough.

_This is real. Whitebeard won't hurt me. Marco swore he wouldn't._

"I feel that you do not mean those words symbolically." Whitebeard said after a nerve-wracking pause, voice devoid of judgment. "Please explain."

Ace accepted the notebook with shaking hands and wrote everything. About Jack. About the Guardians. About Man in the Moon. About his death and rebirth as the Spirit of Summer. About having to leave for Earth once there was a way. About Pitch. About the sand. About the nightmares. It took a long time to write, and when he was finished, the fire-user's fingers were cramped. To further his feeling of weakness, droplets of water smudged the ink.

Whitebeard waited patiently for him to hand the notebook over and feeling like he had just signed for his death, Ace did. There was a long period of silence as the Yonko read it all, expression calm and neutral. When he was done, the giant looked down at him, right fist clenching.

Ace's breath stuttered.  _It's not a nightmare. It can't be. I'm awake. Marco promised I wouldn't be hurt. He promised—_

A large hand landed on his head and Ace squeezed his eyes shut. Whitebeard merely ruffled his hair, mussing up his wavy locks. The fire-user did not relax, still expecting a blow.

"You have been through so much, my son." Whitebeard murmured. "These changes matter little to me, but I know they burden you so I will treat them accordingly. But it is as I told you before. Everyone is a child of the sea."

Ace opened his eyes slightly and peered at the Yonko, who smiled at him. The fire-user cautiously reached for his notebook, pulling it to him.

" _I'm a child of the Moon now."_  Ace wrote, feeling like he had to.

"And Nature. And the sea." The Yonko repeated easily, releasing his signature laugh.

His yellow eyes glanced warmly at Ace. "I do not care that you were resurrected by Spirits. I do not care that you avoided your home for three years. Human or Spirit, you are my son. In control or uncontrollable, you are my son. Healing or hurt,  _you are my son_. When I accepted you as my child, I accepted everything that comes with you. Your happiness, your fear, your courage, your sorrow. I will not leave you behind because you are lost. I will help you learn, and live, and heal because I am your father. I hope that I can regain your trust again."

" _I'm the one who lost it in the first place."_  Ace wrote hurriedly.  _"It was my fault. I let this happen to me. I let things get so messed up."_

"No." Whitebeard stated. "I know you fought your hardest. I know you did your best. But even the strongest mountain can be weathered by a storm. You are willing to try to rebuild old bonds, and want to improve yourself. That is all I will ask of you." Yellow eyes glinted slightly. "Your brothers feel the same."

" _They're not my brothers. Not anymore. I'll have to leave soon."_  Ace wrote guiltily.

Whitebeard breathed deeply, as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check. "Perhaps. We will see what will happen when it does. For now, I will not ask you to share this with anyone else. But I see how your new nature burdens your heart, and I want you to realize my children will not hate you for being different than you were."

_Haruta probably does_ , Ace thought but did not write.

" _What will my punishment be for hurting Haruta?"_  he wrote instead.

He just wanted to get it over with. Thanks to Whitebeard's words, Ace was beginning to doubt the discipline would be tortu— of the physical variety, but that did not mean he would escape without consequences.

_No matter how harsh it is, I deserve it,_ Ace thought resolutely.

"I will not punish you." Whitebeard stated.

Ace stared at him in confusion, not daring to believe it.

"However," the Yonko continued. "I will ask that you be more honest— to your crewmates and yourself. Share your thoughts and feelings, and do not hold in your discomfort like you did today. We need to know if you are uncomfortable or overwhelmed. None of us are mind readers, after all. If you had told Vista you did not want the shoes… well, we might not be here having this conversation right now. You will also apologize to Haruta and the others, but I assumed that you were going to do that anyway."

Now that Ace knew he was leaving the room alive, he would. He was honestly surprised he had not been assigned cleaning duty or something. Then again, he was not allowed to strain himself. He also might have a panic attack and mess things up again. He always ended up ruining things. The fire-user knew better than to overestimate his capabilities again.

Ace still could not believe it. He might never be able to believe it. But for now, Whitebeard had accepted him, changes and burdens and all, and for that Ace could not be more grateful.

" _Thank you, Oyaji."_ The Summer Spirit wrote.

The Yonko gave him a beaming smile, the years lifting from his face. "No, my son. Thank  _you_."


	20. The Consequences of Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Semi-graphic descriptions. Blood. Slight gore. Misunderstandings. Drama. Like yikes. Holy smokes. Dark chapter.

"Who are you anyway?"

_He doesn't remember me._

Luffy kept smiling obliviously at Jack, waiting for him to respond to his question. The Winter Spirit could not form a reply even if he wanted to. The Guardian thought he had been prepared for Luffy not remembering him. He thought he had hardened his heart to the possibility of his former believer retaining his disbelief. He was wrong. The ache in his chest was worse than when he was walked through, worse than when Pitch had broken his staff, and somehow worse than the crushing feeling in his lungs when he died.

The Straw Hat Pirate was still looking at him, expecting an answer.

The Winter Spirit forced his grin to stay put. "Jack Frost. Nice to meet you—"  _again_. "—at last."

Abruptly, Luffy's happy smile vanished and his eyes narrowed, zeroing in on the Guardian's chest. Specifically at the familiar medallion that hung there. Jack saw his attention shift as his neck unnaturally stretched, and he peered over the Winter Spirit's shoulder.

"That's Ace's hat." The Straw Hat Pirate said suspiciously.

His tone drew the attention of his crew, who ceased performing duties about the deck to observe Jack. The Guardian was not cowed by the intense stares he received. In fact, he felt almost defiant. He hoped that Luffy would not request that he take the orange cowboy hat. If he did, the Winter Spirit was not sure what he would do.

_I have just as much a right to carry this as you do._

"Yeah. I'm keeping it for him until I can give it back." Jack said with forced casualness.

Luffy's hard expression cleared. "That's right! Is that why you were in the lair? Did you come to save Ace?"

"Yeah. I'm…"  _His brother._ _ **Your**_ _brother. The one you forgot._  "…a friend of his."

"Cool. We'll find him together." Luffy said brightly and turned away, believing the conversation was over.

Nami whacked him on the head. "You never introduced us, idiot!" She turned to Jack and smiled sweetly. "I'm Nami, the navigator. Zoro is the swordsman and First Mate. Usopp is the sniper. Franky is our shipwright. Sanji is our cook. Robin is the archaeologist. Brook is our musician. Chopper is the doctor. And you already know Law."

She pointed to each Straw Hat in turn, glaring at the more stubborn ones until they waved or acknowledged her. Zoro slept through her introductions but the navigator surprisingly refrained from throwing something at him to wake him up. Jack knew them all except Robin, Brook, and Franky, having 'met' them in Alabasta more than three years ago. He smiled and nodded anyway, his joy at being seen by so many people being overcome by his hurt that he was not remembered by a special one.

Sabo glanced at him sympathetically from his position by the railing but he said nothing. The Winter Spirit was glad. Any suspicious reactions or shared empathy would only cause the Straw Hats to ask questions Jack had no intention of answering.

Then Usopp gave a startled yell, shattering the peaceful atmosphere.

Weapons were drawn and powers were summoned in an instant. Jack relaxed first, snorting when he realized the cause of the sniper's alarm. Baby Tooth landed on the cowardly pirate's nose, squeaking at him irritably before flitting over to the Guardian. She landed on his shoulder and spoke and Jack's mirth faded.

"Baby Tooth says that Law got his head slammed into a wall." He told the gathered pirates.

Chopper immediately rushed over to the sleeping surgeon and shook him awake. It took a heart-stopping minute, but Law groaned softly and opened his eyes, face set into a tired scowl.

"I'm sorry but I need you to get up." The reindeer said in a no-nonsense tone. "I have to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"I'm fine." Law said clearly, voice not the slightest bit slurred, but he gave in and allowed Chopper to drag him off to the infirmary.

Baby Tooth made to follow before changing her mind, settling comfortably on Jack's shoulder. Nami gave a small squeal, making Usopp jump again.

"She's so cute!" the navigator gasped.

The present— and awake— Straw Hats crowded around the Guardian and Fairy. Nami patted Baby Tooth's head with her forefinger, while Robin stared at the little creature and smiled a tiny bit. The shipwright— Franky— laughed and called her "Super cute!" while Usopp eyed her warily. Baby Tooth preened under the attention, swooning slightly and chirping. Luffy merely watched her with a puzzled expression.

"What is it?" the Straw Hat Captain asked curiously.

Luffy reached out and poked her cheek and her eyes narrowed dangerously. A second prod made her purple eye twitch. The third prod came and Baby Tooth stabbed him in the finger with her beak. The Straw Hat yelped, then laughed.

"I like it!" he said happily even as he sucked at his pricked finger.

" _Her_ —" Jack emphasized. "—name is Baby Tooth. She's a friend of mine."

The Mini Fairy chirped a greeting. None of them understood except Jack but they smiled and returned it anyway.

"Why was she on Law's hat?" Usopp asked.

He remained a safe distance from the Winter Spirit and Fairy. The Guardian supposed it was because she had flown into his face in an attempt to get his attention, likely appearing before his eyes out of seemingly thin air. Or maybe he had seen cute tiny things that were deadly before and was wary. Who knew?

"She likes him." Jack said simply, unaware of the whole story between the two's first meeting.

Based on the surgeon's reaction and cryptic words, they had met before somehow but Baby Tooth was staying oddly evasive about the whole thing. When Jack raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, the Mini Fairy merely grinned and batted her eyes innocently, cooing as Nami stroked her feathers. She promised to share the story later, eyes twinkling with a mixture of sheepishness and amusement.

_I'll hold you to that_ , Jack thought.

Koala cleared her throat. "Now that we've all met each other, we need to come up with a plan to find Ace."

The general mood dipped slightly, though it still remained light. More than one pirate's expression settled into a look of determination, and Jack's heart warmed at the sight of so many people that cared for Ace.

_If only you were here to see it..._

Sabo nodded solemnly. "I agree. Does anyone have any ideas?"

The majority of those present shook their heads negatively.

"I don't have a clue where to start." Nami admitted. "He could literally be anywhere and he doesn't have a vivre card anymore for us to find him that way."

Shadows crossed Luffy's face before vanishing. "Then we'll have to go island by island." He said determinedly. "Ace has got to be somewhere nearby."

"Not necessarily." Jack mentioned, drawing all eyes to him. "Ace…"  _can fly._  "…has had weeks to travel and we have no way to track him down."

Sanji took a long draft from his cigarette, blowing out smoke. "What about his old crew, the Whitebeard Pirates? If he got free and had a destination in mind, wouldn't he try to return home?"

"Perhaps." Robin said. "Unless he couldn't find or get to them. He was tired and alone in the ocean. I hope he didn't drown…"

Jack twitched. Baby Tooth patted his cheek and squeaked reassurances in his ear.

"So Ace could still be alone out there…" Sabo murmured, sounding disturbed by the thought. Then his expression brightened. "Still, the Whitebeard Pirates have a huge information network. They'd have a greater chance of finding him than we would."

"You know, we probably should have contacted them the moment we found out Ace was alive…" Sanji mused. He paused, then looked at his comrades. "Does anyone have their Den Den number?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Forget that idea, then." The chef muttered.

"Actually, don't." Nami spoke up. "There's an island protected by Whitebeard near here. If we go there, I'm sure they'll have a way to contact Whitebeard and his crew."

"Yes!" Luffy cheered. "I'm gonna see Pineapple and the others again! And we get to tell them about Ace. They're gonna be so happy."

He directed another grin at Jack and the Winter Spirit forced himself to return it. He tried to push his sorrow away but it refused to budge, creeping around his heart like icy water closing over his head.

_I should have known better than to hope he'd remember and everything would be like it was_ , he thought _. It's okay though. It doesn't matter._

_At least I'll be reunited with one brother soon._

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace was hidi— broodi—  _sitting_  in his room. The fire-user never thought he would turn to the dreaded white cell known as the infirmary for solace, but currently found the place that smelled of antiseptic and filled with medical equipment to be calming when compared to… elsewhere. And he was  _not_  hiding or brooding, Thatch's worried, knowing looks notwithstanding.

After 'talking' with Oyaji for a little longer yesterday, Ace had gone to apologize to Vista, Izo, and the others for causing trouble and losing control. They had all readily accepted his remorseful atonement. All except for the person he was most sorry towards.

_Ace wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he walked back onto the deck. He was currently alone, with not even Marco at his side, and apprehensive to note that no one spoke to or acknowledged him as he meandered through the Moby Dick's lower levels. He knew that he was a Spirit and without someone there with him, people might not see him because of tendrils of disbelief, but it was still unnerving to not exist to people that had once been his brothers._

_The fire-user's expression clouded as he recalled his future separation with the Whitebeard Pirates again. Whitebeard was aware of it now and appeared to accept it but he was not going to force the Summer Spirit to share his current… status with the others until he wanted to. However, that would not stop Ace from feeling upset about the future._

_For now, he just wanted to make amends where he could and make new memories that would hopefully stay with him for the rest of his immortal life. Ace returned to the deck, gaze dropping to the black scorch marks that scarred the wood. His contrition returned and he pushed it away._

Stay positive. Oyaji isn't angry at me.

_Ace looked around and spotted Izo and Thatch near the railing. A few steps in their direction revealed Vista and Haruta as well, tucked back near the stern. The Twelfth Division Commander sported bandages around his arms and hand. The fire-user's eyes zeroed in on the sterile white strips and he nearly turned around and left. Only his desire to repent and promise to Whitebeard kept him going._

_Thatch saw him first. The chef's face went from strained to bright, a welcome— relieved?— smile stretching across his features. "Ace!"_

_The other three Commanders looked in the fire-user's direction. Vista immediately pushed away from the railing and approached with long, swift strides. Ace's muscled locked and he struggled not to back away or flee. He hoped the swordsman would not strike him. Even though the Fifth Division Commander's rage was_   _justified and Ace had destroyed his gift to him and the fire-user deserved it and_ _—_

_To his surprise, Vista bowed lowly before him, expression noticeably distraught. "I'm so sorry!"_

_Ace blinked at the man and glanced uncertainly at Thatch and Izo. The chef shrugged helplessly, looking as surprised as the fire-user felt. The okama merely shrugged. The Summer Spirit looked back at Vista, who was still bowing. He flipped to a clean page in his notebook and wrote._

"You do not need to apologize. I'm the one who should be sorry. I ruined your gift for me. I'm sorry."

_Vista took the offered paper and read it. He shook his head rapidly and gently handed the notebook back. "The boots upset you. I should have asked if you wanted them instead of trying to shove them on you. I didn't know they would cause a flashback."_

_He froze, mouth clicking shut, but Ace could not think of a reason why. Instead of musing about the matter, the fire-user wrote a response._

"It is not your fault. You had no way to know I would react…" _It took a moment for him to think of the correct word._ "…negatively. The boots were nice. They just reminded me of being impri—"  _The last two words were crossed out and replaced._ "—of bad things."

_He almost elaborated on what exactly the 'bad things' were before realizing that sharing such things would only upset the Whitebeard Commanders. Vista read his words, with Izo peering over the swordsman's shoulder. The Sixteenth Division Commander's brow furrowed and his lips pursed._

_Ace took the notebook back, writing more before Vista could speak._ "How about we just forgive and forget and move on? I forgive you, you forgive me, and we're good?"

_He meant to write the last sentence as a statement but it came out as a question. The Summer Spirit's stupid hands did not seem to know the meaning of 'hiding insecurities'. Scribbling out the question mark would only draw attention to it though. Ace was not sure that the swordsman could forgive and forget. Vista appeared to be the one feeling guilty instead of pinning guilt on the fire-user, but looks could be deceiving. The Commander did not mind Ace's lack of faith in him, however._

" _Of course." He said instantly and warmly. "There's nothing to forgive."_

_Ace had a moment to be glad before a huff directed his attention to Haruta. The fire-user had forgotten the Twelfth Division Commander was there. He should be more careful with that. One never knew when he might be attacked. The Summer Spirit's flame-colored orbs met blue, and Haruta's expression was definitely unfriendly. Or maybe Ace was just being paranoid again. Either was a likely possibility. Once again Ace looked at Haruta's bandaged arms and dropped his gaze to his notebook, writing._

"I'm so sorry I burned you. I lost control of my powers. It won't happen again."

_The apology was heartfelt and genuine, and Ace desperately wished he could speak it aloud. He wanted the pirate to know how sincere and remorseful he was about what had happened. He bowed and held out the notebook to Haruta. The short Commander did not take it. The hand holding the notebook began to quiver. Then it was ripped from his fingers, the paper carving a quarter-inch slice in his palm._

_Ace instinctively winced as he got the stinging paper cut, but he did not blame Haruta for the accidental injury. Besides, this was nothing compared to everything else he had gone through, and the injuries the Commander himself had received. The fire-user remained bowed, peering through his hair at Haruta's expression as he read the apology. The short Commander's visage changed little. Haruta handed the notebook to Izo, not quite looking at Ace. He did not say a word._

_Ace was not stupid enough to notice the lack of acceptance for his admissions. He let his own expression go blank, hiding his hurt and confusion behind apathy. It was okay though. Haruta had every right to be angry. The fire-user had injured him. The Summer Spirit would be upset, too—… That was a lie. The Whitebeard Pirates could do anything short of murdering him and he would forgive them. But Haruta was not Ace and his grudge was warranted._

_Ace distracted himself by shuffling towards the railing, intending to look out at the sea, only for Thatch to abruptly shift positions and lean against the wood where the fire-user had been heading. The chef smiled disarmingly at the Summer Spirit but his grin held a hint of nerves. Ace wondered what he had done wrong this time._

_Izo had taken the opportunity to read the fire-user's apology to Haruta. Ace was fine with it. If he could speak, the others would know what he was saying anyway. The okama was scowling though, and the raven-haired Spirit reluctantly acknowledged that he must have screwed up his atonement somewhere. His stomach twisted into knots and he resolved to ask Marco about the proper way to say sorry later. He must have forgotten how to do it properly if it made Haruta and Izo mad._

" _Haruta, is there something you would like to say?" the fair Commander asked in a low voice._

_Ace peeked at him in puzzlement then returned his scrutiny to Haruta. The fire-user backed up a step instinctively, more than a little unnerved by the cold glower the short Commander shot his brother._

" _Not really." Haruta said._

_Izo looked murderous. The calmness of the day was gone, replaced by a heavy tension that lingered in the air and reminded Ace too much of situations that ended badly for the people involved— mostly him. The fire-user took note of everyone's positions in case he had to flee. He grabbed his notebook and scribed quickly, showing his words to the okama._

"Please don't be mad at Haruta. He didn't do anything wrong."

_Ace felt like a child begging his parents to stop yelling at each other, terrified that their ire would become directed at him as a result, but he had to say_ _**something** _ _. Haruta was evidently furious because of what the Spirit did and he had the right to be, but for some reason Izo was also irritated with the short Commander. When people were angry, it was usually because of the fire-user. Ace did something wrong and it was causing discord among the Commanders that should be brothers. That had to be the reason._

_He kept writing, willing to dig himself into a hole in order to dispel Izo's fury towards his brother._ "I burned him. He doesn't have to forgive me. Don't push it. Please."

_If possible, the okama looked even more pissed. Next to him, Haruta saw Ace's pleas. The short Commander gave another scoff._

" _Pathetic." He muttered under his breath._

_Ace heard him. Haruta must have seen the hurt flash across his face because the Commander's scowl deepened._

" _For the love of Oda!" the diminutive man exploded. "Would you_ _ **stop**_ _looking like a kicked puppy? Oda-dammit, grow a freaking_ _ **backbone**_ _!"_

" _ **Haruta**_ _!" Izo snapped._

_Ace could not take it anymore. He tore the notebook from the okama's hands, ripping a few of the pages. Then he turned on his heel and walked back below deck, barely keeping his expression controlled. 'Memories'— Memories?— of taunts and insults plagued his mind and the fire-user struggled to stand firm against the onslaught of negativity that swamped him. His breath hitched and he pressed a hand to his mouth but his eyes stayed dry._

This is real _, he thought, heart aching._ Haruta actually thinks I'm weak.

_He would not let the tears form and prove the short Commander right._

Ace had retrea— fle—  _returned_  to his room. Thatch had followed as soon as he comprehended that the fire-user had left. The Summer Spirit had not stepped foot outside of the infirmary since. He was currently caught in a cycle of self-hatred, his mood dipping further and further no matter how hard he tried to lift it.

He thought about Haruta and his disgust with the fire-user and felt awful. Then Ace berated himself for allowing the Commander's aloofness to affect him and felt worse. Then he tried to lift his spirits but could not move past the fact that Haruta openly despised him and rejected his apology. Which caused him to hate himself even more for lingering on it and brooding like an emotionally weak pansy. Rinse and repeat.

At first Thatch had attempted to draw Ace into a conversation. He had stopped when the fire-user rudely ignored him, instead drawing in his notebook and pretending the man did not exist. He drew snowflakes, straw hats, flowers, and fairies. He drew stars, leaves, clouds, and moons. Pages were filled with images as the Fourth Division Commander talked and was snubbed. The chef had eventually gone silent, doing his own thing and letting Ace do his. The Summer Spirit decided he really was a terrible person.

_Selfish, inconsiderate bastard_ , Ace thought self-loathingly.

As he drew a cloaked woman surrounded by clouds and leaves, his gaze was caught by the black marks on his hand and he felt the urge to forcibly remove the stuff for the first time in a long time. He would not try though. It would likely upset his companion. Ace glanced at Thatch and saw the chef was fast asleep. He was a little pale and shifted uncomfortably, pain flashing across his features. The fire-user felt worry curl in his gut.

_How long has Thatch been watching over me? Has he been up for days like Marco? How long has it been since the last nightmares?_

Ace's guilt throttled him again and he curled up slightly, hands pressing against his chest. It ached and he rubbed at it absently, wincing occasionally. He should get Bay and inform her of his pain, but he was always in pain and she had better things to do than fuss over him. Besides, it was probably just because he was tired. He was always tired. He wished he could rest his eyes, just for a moment...

The fire-user breathed slowly, eyes slipping closed.

He opened them and came face-to-face with eclipse-like yellow eyes.

Ace and Pitch stared at each other for a long moment, the fire-user too stunned to react. His hands began to quiver a little though other than that he remained frozen. The Nightmare King did not smirk or threaten him, instead studying the Summer Spirit's drawings rather placidly. His gaze slid up and over Ace's marked body, lingering on his black-streaked chest, and the fire-user instinctively clutched the notebook to his torso, hiding the marks from view.

Pitch's head tipped. "You should be dead."

Ace tried to speak but could only emit a barely audible croak. Strange. Usually he could talk in nightmares where the Spirit of Fear interacted with him. Pitch was surprisingly unamused by his failed efforts, keeping the neutral expression that was beginning to become unsettling. His sharp yellow orbs moved to the sleeping Thatch and despite the fact that this was a nightmare, the fire-user felt a bolt of terror.

He grabbed his notebook, writing quickly.  _"Please don't hurt him."_

Pitch casually read the words, still staying stoic. After a tense pause, he moved away from the oblivious Thatch.

_Not-Thatch. I'm in a nightmare_ , Ace reminded himself.

The Nightmare King sat on the Summer Spirit's bed. If it were anyone else, the position would be a normal thing. Legs off the side, body turned slightly towards the patient, hands settled in his lap. He even plucked Ace's notebook from his grasp and was looking at the things he drew, gaze lingering on certain images as his eyes flashed. But this was not a friendly visitor. This was the Spirit of Fear.

Ace focused on trying to breathe evenly and slow down his racing heartbeat. He was not afraid of the Nightmare King. Especially not here. Even though this was a nightmare and Pitch was perfectly capable of making him suffer before 'killing' him. Usually the Spirit of Fear was more menacing though. Now he looked… contemplative.

"How did you survive?" Pitch asked after a beat of charged silence. He sounded genuinely curious. "This should have killed you."

He set down the notebook and reached out, fingers barely trailing over the marks near Ace's heart. The fire-user trembled but did not pull away. This was not real. It was a nightmare. He was in no real danger.

" _I survived because of my friends."_  Ace told him.

This was a bad idea. He should not tell Pitch anything. But this was a dream, and dreams did not have consequences. It might not even be the Nightmare King he was talking to, just a manifestation of the black sand. There was no way of knowing.

Pitch eyed him thoughtfully. "Hmm. Based on your lack of reaction, I'm assuming that you forgot our previous conversation. How… convenient."

Ace had no clue what he was talking about. He just shrugged. Pitch did not look inclined to remind him of their last talk, instead continuing to study the fire-user's chest. He remained quietly contemplative and it was that fact that kept the Summer Spirit from feeling more disturbed by his intense scrutiny. This was a dream. Even if he was hurt or killed, Ace's actual body would be okay. He would survive.

"I wonder…" Pitch murmured, almost to himself.

He flicked his hand. Shadows flared and Ace almost expected them. They wrapped around his wrists and ankles, pinning the Summer Spirit down. The fire-user did not try to struggle. He stared at the ceiling and began counting the particles of dust he could see in the air. Everything was fine. None of this was real.

Pitch walked out of the room and returned, still holding that curious air. He reminded Ace of a child who had found a new bug it wanted to study. A glint caught the fire-user's eyes and he swallowed roughly. Or a child that wanted to dissect said insect with a scalpel.

The Nightmare King stood over him for a moment, eyes half-lidded. Then the blade sank into Ace's skin. The fire-user silently continued his inventory of floating dust particles as the Spirit of Fear cut his ankles, wrists, chest, and sides— the gouge on his one side exactly where his first wound had been. The cuts were not deep, more like thin, surgical slices and luckily only bled a little. Pitch set the bloody scalpel down on the bed beside Ace.

Ace knew that the Nightmare King was far from done.

The Spirit of Fear paused for another long moment. Then he stretched out his hand, face still expressionless, and let his palm hover over Ace's heart. The fire-user finally realized what the Nightmare King was going to do. Pitch must have grown tired of waiting. He was going to force the sand to do its job, finally killing the Summer Spirit. That did not explain the lacerations though—

**Pain.**

Ace forgot how to think. He forgot how to breathe. Reality and fiction were forgotten as his mind was wiped clean, his entire consciousness overcome by pure  **agony**. The fire-user felt something  **pulling**  inside of him as if something had grabbed his veins and organs and was attempting to yank them out. Everything hurt, from his head to his torso to his arms and his legs.

It was worse than when he touched someone and felt knives.

It was worse than when Akainu had burned him.

It was worse than when Pitch stabbed him.

Ace swore his insides  **strained**  and shifted, trying to remain in his skin while they were being  **ripped**  and stretched under his flesh. He tried to scream but if he succeeded he did not hear himself. His eyes rolled back for a moment, vision blacking out but his stubborn vitality kept him from going unconscious. His wavering gaze sought out Pitch, and instead he saw  **black**  and  **red**  flowing from the cuts the Nightmare King had given him. As he watched, the wounds widened, stretching across his skin as his flesh was  **torn**  apart.

If Pitch wanted to kill him as painfully as possible, he was succeeding. The fire-user might have been pleading, or screaming, or crying. If he was, he could not hear his voice or feel the tears dripping down his temples.

More red and black was  **dragged**  from his body, and he had enough awareness to note that while the black floated up, the red dripped down, sliding from the black like it could not cling to it.

Ace sought out Pitch again, but he could not see the Nightmare King's expression. The Spirit of Fear could be laughing maniacally and the fire-user would not know. The Summer Spirit bet Pitch was smirking, or gloating, or sadistically enjoying his victim's pain. But not his fear. Ace was not afraid. It was true this 'death' was painful but this was a nightmare and nothing mattered in the end. Why be afraid of something that did not exist?

Whatever Pitch was doing, it was getting worse. Ace's body grew weak as the Spirit of Fear  **tore**  and  **peeled** whatever it was from him. His back arched, lifting off the bed as he felt he was being torn in half. He felt something in his gut  **strain**  and  **shift**  sickeningly. His abdomen felt heavy and strange, as if someone was pressing down on his stomach and he felt the urge to retch. He swore the organ was  **burning**.

The Nightmare King had to be forcibly keeping him in the nightmare. It was impossible for the fire-user to still be conscious. Ace tried to speak— willing to throw away his pride and beg Pitch to stop— but could not.

Something touched his head— a hand?— and moved back and forth in a stroking motion. It was not enough to soothe him like it normally would. Ace had to be weeping by now. It was impossible not to. Pitch continued to  **tear** him apart from the inside, splatters of red and black becoming all the fire-user could see.

The Nightmare King spoke and Ace knew he was hallucinating, because there was no way the Spirit of Fear would say the words he heard.

"I'm sorry." Pitch said quietly. "You've suffered enough."

The grip on the substance inside the fire-user grew stronger, the  **pull**  more pronounced and the  **pain**  became so bad Ace's world went white.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Sometimes it was difficult being the oldest brother, but Marco would not trade his position for anything else in the world. The Phoenix would not call himself a compassionate man, but he was quite good at seeing things from different points of view, and it took a lot for someone he cared about to gain his ire.

Which was how he was able to refrain from storming through the Moby Dick like a menacing blonde-haired storm cloud. He still caused a few of his brothers to desperately leap out of his way or turn around and run in the opposite direction, but all things considered, Marco was surprisingly calm.

His target seemed to know that he was coming, for the door that was the Phoenix's destination was wide open. Marco strode into Haruta's room without pausing, stopping behind the Twelfth Division Commander. The short pirate was doing paperwork at his desk. He did not look up as the Phoenix's shadow fell over him, instead steadily completing the document he was working on.

Marco allowed him too, waiting patiently for Haruta to finish. Not long after, the Commander did. Haruta set down his pen and turned to look up at the First Division Commander. His expression was resigned and slightly angry, but held no indignation. Both of them knew why the Phoenix was here.

Haruta spoke first. "Are you going to yell at me too? Izo already did that."

Marco said nothing, staying silent with his arms crossed.

The short Commander sneered and continued. "I can't believe that you're pissy because I  _hurt Ace's feelings._ " The last words were hissed more than spoken, uttered in a mocking, furious voice.

Marco ignored his scathing tone. "That's not the reason you're in trouble and you know it, yoi."

Haruta pushed away from the desk, standing up and glowering. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Ace is ' _mentally unstable'_  and we need to walk on eggshells around him." Again he spoke sarcastically. "He needs to man up and get over it. I'm sick of him flinching like a scared duckling and staring at us like we're Akainu."

"I doubt fear would be Ace's first emotion if he saw that bastard again, yoi." Marco said lowly.

The Twelfth Division Commander jeered. "I bet it would."

The Phoenix's eyes narrowed. "I had no idea you were so cold. Ace was held captive and tortured for a long time. It's a miracle he's as functional as he is, yoi. Part of the torture involved us turning against and hating him, and you seem pretty intent on making that conditioning a reality."

"Don't try to blame this on me." Haruta snarled. "Ace is the one who has issues. He's the one who's so fucked up and broken!"

The Phoenix's careful patience shattered. He loomed over the Twelfth Division Commander, blue eyes burning like his flames. Haruta balked, shrinking slightly beneath Marco's enraged glare.

"What the  _hell_  is wrong with you?" He growled without raising his voice. "Do you think Ace  _wanted_  to be captured? Do you think he didn't try his  _damn_  hardest to stay strong as he was tormented and brutalized for years without reprieve? He's human, and everyone had a breaking point, but if he were as 'broken' as you seem to think he is, he would be a catatonic mess or irreparably shattered. He is  _trying_ , Haruta! His trust in us was broken and he is trying so hard to learn to trust us again. He needs attention and support and  _time_. Unlike what you seem to think, he's not just going to recover in a day. He might never fully recover at all!"

Haruta's own temper flared to life again, his eyes hardening. "Ace should have tried harder."

"He couldn't!" Marco snarled.

" _He should have!_ " Haruta repeated in a shout. "He's  _pathetic!_  He flinches and is terrified of everything and he barely eats and can't speak and he looks so exhausted and thin and scared…"

The Twelfth Division Commander trailed off, tears gathering in his eyes. His shoulders shook and a sob burst free of his throat. Haruta attempted to smother the cries with his hand, but only succeeded in muffling them. Marco watched the short pirate cry, at a loss for words.

"He— He die— We had a funeral for him." The Commander hiccupped. "We mourned him. And this whole time he was alive and some bastard's prisoner. We  _abandoned_  him, Marco! And now he's back but he isn't the same anymore. We moved on with our lives while he was being  _tortured_."

Marco gathered the sobbing Haruta into his arms, rocking slightly as the short man wept into his shoulder. He felt emotionally drained, his anger drifting away as sadness took its place. Haruta was not angry or disgusted with Ace. He was angry and disgusted with himself. He felt guilty about the kid's condition and blamed himself for not helping him sooner.

The Phoenix understood, because he also felt that way. He logically knew that it was impossible for him to stop Pitch or save Ace sooner, but his heart still ached with regret whenever he thought about what the kid had gone through.

"There's nothing we could have done. We had no way of knowing what had happened." Marco murmured in his brother's ear. "All we can do is be there for Ace now, support him, and love him even though he's changed."

Haruta sniffled. "I know. I just want the old Ace back." He whispered miserably.

Marco sighed. "Me too. But… Haruta, he might not recover. He has gone through something terrible none of us can comprehend, yoi. Trauma like that changes a person… sometimes permanently."

Haruta stayed quiet for a long time, head leaning against the Phoenix's chest. "…I just made things worse, didn't I?" He said quietly. "I was just so  _frustrated_. He was acting so different than normal. Not— Not  _weak_ , but almost timid. It's  _wrong_." His lip quivered. "I thought things would be back to how they were before, but they aren't. So I took my anger out on him." His eyes closed. "I should apologize. Don't know if he'll forgive me though."

"Ace will forgive you immediately, yoi." Marco said instantly. "But I still think you should try to explain things. He's been… conditioned to accept that he deserves everything bad that happens to him and anything bad that happens is his fault. Even if you apologize, he won't understand that your anger was not because of him and that you were upset with yourself, not him."

Haruta gave a humorless laugh. "Can you see the future or something?"

"No, I just notice things." The Phoenix admitted heavily.  _Ace tries to hide it, but I can see how he blames himself and puts himself down. He thinks he deserved everything and has little to no self-worth left._

He did not share the thought with Haruta, instead walking to the door and allowing the shorter pirate to lead the way to the infirmary. There was a lot that Ace was hiding. Like what exactly happened to him and how he had fire powers that could not be contained by seastone, among other secrets.

Marco had a feeling the kid had shared it all with Oyaji but he was not so controlled that he could refrain from wanting to seek out answers. The Phoenix would not demand them, not from Whitebeard or Ace. The kid would tell him when he was ready and the First Division Commander was willing to wait forever if necessary.

"Who is with Ace now?" Haruta asked, pulling Marco from his musing.

"Last I checked, Thatch." The Phoenix replied.

The shorter pirate sniggered. "He's refused to leave Ace's side ever since he showed up in the mess hall. He's been following Ace around like an oversized puppy. It's adorable." Blue eyes softened. "I get it though. I guess it's still so unreal. We saw Ace…"  _Die_ , went unsaid _._

"I know. Let's just be happy he made his way back to us, yoi." Marco said.

"Yeah." Haruta murmured.

They entered the infirmary, which was empty for once. Bay must have been called away. Marco was mostly unconcerned. She was probably checking on Oyaji. If someone had been severely injured, there would be a lot more frantic chaos on the ship. Big injuries rarely stayed secret for long. He and Haruta crossed the infirmary and the shorter Commander halted in front of Ace's closed door. The Phoenix watched the normally bold pirate dither, hand twitching towards but not touching the doorknob.

Fear flicking through Haruta's blue gaze. "You don't think I pushed Ace too far, did I? Far enough that he'll… do something stupid?"

The Commander's voice was tight and nervous. At first the Phoenix was confused by the questions but he eventually understood the meaning behind them.

Marco shook his head resolutely. "Don't be ridiculous. Ace is strong. A few harsh words and a cold shoulder won't send him spiraling into a depression, yoi. He may be a bit worn down lately, but he's still a stubborn hothead. If he  _does_  harm anyone because of this, it'll be you."

Haruta looked like he hoped that the kid  _would_  deck him and the thought granted him resolve. The Twelfth Division Commander visibly shook himself and opened the door.

"Hey Ace—"

Haruta went rigid, the color draining from his face as his expression froze. Marco did not hesitate to shove the pirate aside to see what had made him stop and found himself paralyzed as well.

A grey-skinned man in a black cloak stood over a shuddering, writhing Ace. The Phoenix could only stare as blood and black sand flowed from the fire-user's body, the black heading towards the 'man's' hand while the crimson splattered onto the sheets. For a single second, he thought he had fallen asleep and was in a nightmare where his brother was being sacrificed in a demonic ritual.

Then it clicked that the Phoenix was very awake.

Marco could not utter words. Instead a wordless scream escaped him, so filled with pain, rage, and terror that he barely recognized his own voice. The 'man'—  _Pitch Black_ — jerked in surprise, vanishing into the shadows before the Phoenix could reach him. The sand he had been controlling fell to the ground, no longer able to defy gravity. It mixed with Ace's blood—  _so much blood_.

Marco followed the biggest trails of red and could only stare speechlessly at the gashes on Ace's wrists and stomach. If there were other wounds, the Phoenix could not spot them amidst the blood streaked across the kid's skin. Next to him, Haruta gave a hysterical gasp.

"He— He—"

The sound made Marco snap into action. He grabbed the sheet and pressed it against Ace's wrists, which held the worst wounds. The gashes went halfway up his forearms, gushing red, and the Phoenix nearly gagged just looking at them. As he put pressure on the cuts, the blond pirate spotted flecks of orange and met the kid's pained flame-colored eyes.

Ace mouthed something, over and over, but Marco was in no state of mind to decipher his silent words. Tears dripped from the fire-user's sorrowful orbs, and seeing that the blond pirate could not understand him, Ace laid his head back and went limp. The Phoenix's heart nearly stopped.

"Haruta, get Bay." Marco ordered.

The short Commander did not move, continuing to stare at Ace with round eyes.

"He— He—" the pirate stammered. His horrified blue orbs met Marco's. "He— He tried to _—_ "

Understanding struck like a punch to the gut. The Twelfth Division Commander had not seen Pitch. He did not see the fire-user's attacker. He only saw a bloody Ace with cut wrists and a red-covered scalpel at his side. Marco slowly comprehended what the scene must look like to Haruta, but shoved away that terrible realization to shout at the short pirate.

"Get Bay.  _Get Bay_   _NOW!_ "

His bellow frightened Haruta into action. The Commander bolted out the door, screaming for the doctor at the top of his lungs. Marco returned his attention to Ace, who stared back at him with half-lidded eyes. Tears continued to leak from the kid's exhausted orbs and he trembled under the Phoenix's hands. He mouthed the same thing again and again, and the blond pirate finally understood what the fire-user was asking.

Marco held back a sob. "This is real."

Ace's face paled and his eyes clouded. For a terrifying moment, Marco thought the kid had died in that moment, but his chest still moved even as the rest of him stayed lax and lifeless. Dull orange orbs desperately sought the Phoenix again, seeking comfort, and the blond pirate did his best to give a reassuring smile.

"It's okay." His voice cracked. "You're going to be okay, yoi."

Ace's eyes remained on him, never straying for a second. Bay crashed into the room, expression wild and skin ashen. She barely refrained from shoving Marco aside, instead shouting orders at the nurses she had with her. One put her hands over the Phoenix's bloody ones, another put tourniquets around Ace's arms, and a third and fourth raced off, likely to gather supplies and blood.

"Marco, move your hands." Bay commanded him.

The Phoenix stared at her uncomprehendingly, ears ringing.

" _Move!_ " she snapped.

Marco flinched back and was instantly pushed away from Ace. Fear flashed across the kid's face and he began to struggle in the nurses' holds, trying to reach for the Phoenix. The blond pirate ignored Bay's snarls and returned to Ace's head, holding his face and covering the fire-user's view of his body so he could not see the doctor and nurses work.

"It's okay." He soothed, not-quite able to keep his voice controlled. "I'm here. I won't leave you, yoi." He saw a nurse reach for a needle and snapped. " _No_  sedatives!"

The woman shot him a dirty look but obeyed when Bay nodded in agreement with his order. Ace relaxed slightly, eyes staying on Marco. The Phoenix heard Haruta whimper hysterically again but did not turn, holding the fire-user's gaze. Then Ace shifted restlessly, panic returning to his visage. The blond thought it was because he was in pain or afraid of falling unconscious.

The fourth nurse's shout shot down that theory. "Bay, Thatch won't wake up."

Marco's breath stuttered. In his hurry to help the kid, he had forgotten that Thatch was with Ace. Pitch would not have been able to get to the fire-user without getting the chef out of the way. His fear lessened when a glance showed the Fourth Division Commander still breathed as he slept in his chair, but returned full force when he theorized exactly why and how Thatch had slept through the chaos surrounding him.

"It's the sand." He breathed, then explained his words in a louder voice when Bay looked at him. "The black sand makes people sleep. Thatch must have gotten hit with some."

The full implications of his statement struck the Phoenix and his panic doubled. Had Thatch been infected like Ace? Was he having nightmares right now? Was he trapped in unconsciousness? Would Marco soon be dealing with two shattered brothers instead of one—?

" _Stop moving_." One nurse said harshly.

She glared at Ace, who ignored the woman, staring frantically at Marco. He kept trying to move his right arm only to have the limb held down by the nurses. The wound on his left arm had been partially stitched up and bandaged, but the right was gushing blood because of the fire-user's struggles. The kid abruptly gave up and kept his arm still, instead keeping his eyes locked with the Phoenix's as he rapidly shook his head.

Marco suddenly understood. "Thatch… isn't infected?"

Ace nodded, twitching again as the nurses continued their work. He tried to wrestle his bandaged arm out of another nurse's grasp, only for the woman— her name might be Sage— to keep him pinned with all her strength. Her face was strained but determined and she reached into her pocket, retrieving a cuff. Marco grabbed her wrist before he realized what he was doing.

"Don't handcuff him, yoi." He warned.

Sage's eyes narrowed. "It's standard procedure for suicidal patients." She said lowly.

Marco was too drained to explain, and the betrayed look Ace shot the nurse only decreased his desire to share the truth with her. "He doesn't need it."

Again she went to argue, but relented when Bay said "Don't chain him. Help me with this."

It was the longest few hours that Marco ever lived through. The nurses and Bay stitched up and bandaged Ace's wrists, then moved on to his other injuries as another began a blood transfusion. When the coating of congealed blood and sand was removed, it revealed gashes on his sides, chest, and ankles. A cursory glance would make it easy to believe that the wounds had been self-inflicted. Marco knew better.

_Next time I see Pitch, he's_ _**dead** _ _._

The only out-of-place injury was the strange bulge on Ace's abdomen, near his belly button. Bay's fingers were gentle as they prodded the kid's stomach. When they touched the swelling, Ace nearly passed out from the pain, pupils shrinking to pinpricks. The doctor gave up on her professional self-control and let loose a string of curses.

"He has a hernia." She said. She met Marco's eyes. "Part of his stomach has been displaced and is pressing against his abdominal cavity. The protrusion is small. We might be able to apply manual pressure to push it back."

Marco sensed a continuation.

"…Otherwise it may require surgery." Bay continued stiffly.

Ace kept staring at Marco, giving no indication he had heard. The Phoenix reached up and ruffled his hair.

"Do it."

Neither fire-user watched as the doctor and nurses moved about his body. Then Ace flinched slightly, eyes shutting briefly. He exhaled shakily and looked to Marco, studying every line of his face. The kid stayed awake through the whole procedure, flinching occasionally and gritting his teeth. He showed no inclination to fall unconscious, most likely staying awake through sheer force of will. The Phoenix talked to him the entire time, about random, unimportant things but Ace focused on him like the blond man was telling him the most interesting story in the world.

Eventually Bay sat back, stripping off and replacing her gloves. "Done."

A peek revealed that the disturbing bulge was gone, only bruises and reddened skin revealing where the hernia had once been. Marco pleaded with whatever deities existed that would be the end of it. Ace stayed placid, too exhausted to move much but unable to fall asleep.

Blood and black sand were cleaned away and Bay eventually gave permission to move him to a different, more hygienic bed. Marco stood up for the first time in hours, cringing as his cramped muscles protested, and noticed that both Haruta and Thatch were gone. He could not identify when they had left. He prayed that the chef was okay.

Sage and Bay lifted Ace onto the stretcher to transfer him, and Marco found his gaze drawn to the thick gauze around the kid's wrists. Rage and helplessness clawed at his chest, and he distracted himself by retrieving the fire-user's notebook off of the floor. Spatters of blood covered the page, but once sentence was clearly legible.

" _Please don't hurt him."_

… _Pitch is_ _ **beyond dead**_ _._

Ace was settled into a new bed in the main infirmary. Marco spotted Thatch occupying another bed, pale-faced but awake as he lay on the sheets and was looked over by another nurse. The chef saw the Phoenix and nodded wearily. Then his gaze went to Ace and his expression crumpled. He put a hand to his mouth and turned away, shoulders shaking.

Marco mentally cursed Pitch, wanting nothing more than to see the bastard burn in hell. He prayed Haruta had been discreet in his attempt to get Bay here, but knew that such hopes were naïve at best. More than half the ship probably heard the Twelfth Division Commander shouting for the doctor, and it would not be long for twisted, misinformed versions of what had happened to spread throughout the Moby Dick.

There was no gentle way to say it. Everyone was going to think that Ace tried to commit suicide.

The Phoenix was not sure if he wanted to yell in frustration or break down and scream. He needed to reassure Ace, reassure Thatch, reassure Haruta, meet with Oyaji and the Commanders, try to explain what really happened to them without revealing Pitch to those not in the know while also kind of having to because he could not explain without mentioning Ace's captor, stop the rumors, discourage the spreading of said rumors, attempt to keep the nurses from treating Ace like a death-seeker or worse, and overall prevent the general crew from treating Ace like he was going to break any second and kill himself.

Marco wondered if Pitch had done this to Ace for the exact purpose of lowering morale and sowing dissent and self-hatred on the ship, and despised the bastard all the more. The kid did not appear to understand the full ramifications of what had happened yet, and the Phoenix was a little grateful for his ignorance. Ace had enough insecurities and stress in his life. He did not need misconceptions and rumors dragging him down.

_He's already dealing with enough problems._

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace floated in a haze. He did not allow said haze to darken into oblivion, clinging to consciousness with a stubbornness he did not know he still possessed. The fire-user felt like he should be afraid, but he was more bewildered and shocked than scared.

_Pitch almost murdered me. Violently._

He should be horrified. Not because of his near-miss with death— somehow he still did not fear dying— but because the Moby Dick, his place of sanctuary and safety had been easily invaded by the Nightmare King. Pitch had effortlessly entered Ace's room and incapacitated Thatch without alerting another soul. If Marco and Haruta had not shown up when they did, the fire-user would be long dead— or worse.

The memory of his organs and veins being pulled and tugged about by the black sand was too fresh for Ace to want to think about it, but he acknowledged that being ripped apart like that would be an awful and messy way to die. He had mistakenly believed he was in a nightmare for the entirety of the experience and to learn it had all been real almost made the fire-user want to expel the contents of his stomach.

He held in the urge, not only because he doubted Marco and Bay would appreciate it, but also because he did not want to risk agitating his 'hernia'. Ace had heard of organs being shifted about because of stress or other factors before but he had never considered it happening to him like  _that_. If Pitch had been allowed to continue, would he have torn the organs straight out of the fire-user's body? Or would Ace have bled out before that happened? The Summer Spirit diverted his thoughts before he could make himself sick.

Bay checked him over once more, giving off the vibe that she was one bad thing away from turning into a screaming wreck. Now that Ace was no longer bleeding to death, her face was becoming steadily paler and more strained. If the fire-user did not know any better, he would swear she was about to cry.

The doctor checked his throat next. She did not need to utter a word for Ace to know the news was not good. He would have been screaming during Pitch's attack if he had the voice to and it was unnecessary to have to be told that he had even less of a chance of getting his voice back then before. Ace did not attempt to request answers, instead searching desperately for something to distract himself as Bay continued his check-up.

The fire-user spotted Thatch and watched attentively as the nurse looked the chef over. It helped him ignore Bay's continued poking and prodding. The moment the nurse gave Thatch a clean bill of health, the Fourth Division Commander tried to flee the infirmary, but a pleading look from Ace was all it took to propel Marco from his spot at the Summer Spirit's side to block the doorway.

"Don't leave. You need to talk to Ace."

Thatch had the look of a man who was one breath away from breaking into pieces. His eyes were dull and red-rimmed and his skin was ashen, almost as pale as his shirt. Ace guessed he blamed himself for the fire-user's injuries. It was not his fault. He had been forced to sleep by the black sand. He had no way to fight it and if Ace remembered correctly, no way to even know it existed.

Thatch said something too softly for the fire-user to hear. Marco stepped forward and gripped the chef's shoulders, speaking lowly. Ace wished he could hear their words but supposed it was none of his business. The Phoenix was probably telling the chef not to blame himself. He could not have prevented it.

_Pitch can get me here._

Ace felt a tremor of fear. His body went cold like he had been doused in ice-water. Each shadow seemed like an enemy, capable of hiding the captor he believed he had escaped until the Spirit chose to reveal himself. What was stopping Pitch from taking Ace again? What was stopping him from returning and finishing the Summer Spirit? The fire-user's trembling grew more pronounced and Bay laid a hand on his shoulder. To his surprise, the touch did not feel like knives or glass.

"It's okay, Ace." She soothed. "You're alright. You're still alive." Her voice shook.

The doctor rubbed a hand across her eyes. They were dry, but Ace would not be surprised if she was upset too. The Summer Spirit had nearly died but she had saved him. The fire-user felt a rush of appreciation for Bay. She had probably been freaking out and horrified during the ordeal but she had maintained control and done her best to help Ace instead of wasting time letting her emotions get the best of her.

He reached out, taking the doctor's hand. Bay stilled, surprised by the contact and stared at their joined hands. Ace gave her fingers a squeeze and shot her a tired smile before releasing her, trying to convey his gratitude through his expression. Bay must have seen it because the tension in her shoulders lifted slightly.

"You're so strong, Ace." She whispered. "Strong and brave. But at the same time, you don't have to be. We're here to help you. You can tell us if you're upset, or afraid, or want to— to—" She struggled for a moment and inhaled slowly. "We're here for you. We care about you so much.  _Please_  don't do this to yourself again."

Ace stared at her in bewilderment. The emotion was swiftly overcome by hurt. Bay thought  _he_  was responsible for his injuries. How could she think that? Pitch had been the one to hurt him. Unless she was using that cruel logic that the fire-user let the Nightmare King do this to him…

The fire-user looked down at his wrapped ankles, stomach, chest and  _wrists_ … and his heart sank.

_Do they think…?_

"That's enough." Marco said firmly, walking back to Ace's bed with an ashen-skinned Thatch at his side. The Phoenix's eyes were sharp and stern. "Ace did not do this to himself."

The blond pirate spoke the words firmly, believing them with every part of his heart and Ace felt a rush of relief. Marco knew the Summer Spirit did not injure himself. He knew Pitch was the one who hurt him. The fire-user could not bear the thought of his friends thinking he wanted to die. He most definitely wanted to live, even after everything. Sure, Ace might hate himself and what he had become a bit, but he would not let Pitch win by harming himself or taking his own life. He would not become that desperate to escape it all.

Bay's expression grew sharp while Thatch's became even more miserable.

"Marco," the chef said in a low, hushed tone. "I don't think we should discuss this here…"

"We  _are_  discussing this here because Ace  _isn't_  suicidal." The Phoenix said bluntly. "I'm sorry for not sharing things with you and letting it get this far. I thought that you had been informed about Ace's problems, Thatch. I thought he told you he was not on the railing to jump into the sea. He wasn't trying to kill himself, yoi."

Strength returned to Thatch's frame but vanished just as quickly. "So what is this, then?" He said quietly, gesturing at the fire-user's bandaged arms. "Did Ace think  _blood-letting_  would remove those marks?"

Ace frowned, a stray thought niggling at the back of his mind.

"Like I said,  _Ace did not do this to himself._ " Marco repeated fiercely and unrelentingly. His gaze flicked to meet the fire-user's and Ace nodded in acceptance, understanding what the man wanted to do. "I should have told you this sooner…"

The Phoenix began to tell the doctor and chef everything he knew about the fire-user's situation. Ace listened in as well and was shocked to hear how much more Marco had known than he thought. He knew Pitch existed, had powers that dealt with fear, had kept Ace captive, had infected Ace with sand that kept him asleep and in nightmares, and was a merciless monster.

The last statement bothered Ace slightly and he finally formed the bundle of thoughts that had been bothering him as Marco continued to explain the truth and set the record straight.

_Pitch could have killed me after he beat me up. He could have left me to wonder hopelessly instead of informing me how many times I was in reality. He could have taken me from the Moby Dick any time he wanted. He could have directed the black sand into my heart, killing me instantly, instead of pulling it out of my body._

… _So why didn't he?_

ROTGOPROTGOP

Regret was not an emotion Haruta was used to feeling. As a mischievous and playful soul, the Twelfth Division Commander often faced the brunt end of his brothers' ire. Mostly when said brother was the target of one of the short man's infamous pranks. It was all in harmless fun and everyone knew that so even if a fellow Whitebeard Pirate was annoyed by his antics, Haruta never felt bad about it. They were crewmates. They were family. They were brothers. They would laugh it off after and move on.

Haruta would never harm his brothers out of malice. He was never one to look back at the past and feel remorse for what he had done. And yet here he was, doing exactly that on both accounts. The Twelfth Division Commander had maliciously hurt a brother. He had made a slew of terrible mistakes and wished he could go back in time and change it all.

He let his anger get the best of him. He let himself become upset by the changes in Ace. Instead of dealing with his illogical fury himself, he lashed out at the source of those feelings. Haruta looked down on Ace with scorn. He refused to accept that the fire-user was hurting and unwell. He yelled at him, blamed him for things that were not his fault, and did not accept the genuine apology the kid gave him.

Haruta had been cruel to his traumatized, hurting, mentally unstable brother… who had then tried to commit suicide.

The short Commander sat in one of the lowest levels of the ship, where the brigs were located. In his opinion he may as well be locked up in them for what he had done. It was dark and lonely and he knew he deserved to be here and wallow in his guilt. The others would disagree, but the blue-eyed man knew better.

Haruta had let his emotions get the best of him and used them as an excuse to hurt Ace. When the kid had returned to them, the Twelfth Division Commander had thought everything would go back to the way it was before. He had known that Ace had been tortured and imprisoned but he assumed the fire-user would bounce right back like he always did. When that had proven to not be the case… Haruta had been upset, and confused, and oh so  _angry_.

The brutal part of him he did not know existed thought Ace was not trying hard enough to recover. He had wrongfully believed that Marco and Bay were coddling the fire-user for no reason. Haruta had looked at the unofficial 'rules' and 'warnings' that had been subtly passed around to the pirates for dealing with the kid and scoffed, believing them to be unnecessary.

_If Ace ignores you or looks at you with fear, do not take it personally._

_If Ace lashes out at you in anger, he is trying to get you to leave him alone because he thinks he does not deserve your attention. Stay with him and he will eventually calm down._

_Ace will apologize a lot. Accept it and try to encourage him that it is not necessary. Please don't get annoyed and snap at him for it._

_If Ace has a panic attack, get Marco or Bay._

_Do not bring up Ace's imprisonment, or grill him about his whereabouts and who did this to him._

_If Ace falls asleep, do not laugh. It is no longer narcolepsy and is a symptom of a more serious condition._ _**Get Bay immediately.** _

_Don't touch Ace, even to get his attention. The only exception is if he tries to harm himself or leave the ship. Try to talk him down first if that happens. Let him initiate contact if he wishes._

_Do not bring up Ace's brothers unless he does it first._

_Ace is not allowed to do any chores, heavy lifting, or other duties around the ship. Politely decline if he offers to assist you. Anyone who lets him help will be dealt with by Bay._

_No one except Marco, Bay, Thatch, and Izo are allowed to 'pop in' and visit Ace unannounced. He is unused to people and a surprise visit will likely upset and unnerve him._

_Try not to yell at Ace or show disgust or anger around him. He will believe that you are upset with him._

_Ace has severe memory problems. He may not remember your name and may forget previous conversations. He may also have 'recollections' of interactions that never happened. Tell him if things are 'real' or 'not real'. Please be patient._

_Do not mention Marineford or the Payback War._

_Ace cannot speak. Do not try to force him to. Doing so will only make his condition worse. He has a notebook he writes in. He tends to write things then cross them out because he is uncomfortable with sharing them, so try to wait until he is done and shows you the page to read what he wrote._

_Do not joke about hitting, offer to spar with, or playfully strike Ace. He will see all violence against him as genuine and deserved and will likely let you hurt him._

The 'rules' had seemed stupid, childish, and unneeded to the Twelfth Division Commander before. Now Haruta could see why the Phoenix and doctor had been so stingy and insistent about treading lightly around their returned brother. As much as he, Ace, and everyone else wanted to deny it, the kid was  _fragile_. The blue-eyed pirate had observed how tense and nervous the fire-user was around people. He had seen the flinches, tears, and hesitant way he interacted with the Whitebeard Pirates, as if a single wrong move would result in a gruesome death.

However, Haruta had not acknowledged that those things meant Ace needed to be dealt with carefully. He did not accept that the fire-user was not an infallible pillar of strength that could come out of imprisonment with a flourish and his usual grin. The kid had been held captive and tortured for years. Who knew what terrible things he had gone through? Who knew what awful torments he had endured to make him so compliant and accepting of horror, and lose any semblance of self-worth he once had?

Instead of thinking of those things and resolving to help Ace regain what he lost, Haruta had seen the fire-user as a shadow of his old self, almost as bad as an imposter. There was no party when the kid returned. There were no joyous celebrations and cheerful reunions upon his return. Instead Ace was ill, tired, afraid, and shattered.

And like a cold bastard, Haruta had blamed the fire-user for his crumbled state of mind.

He had pushed. He had rejected. He had sneered and mocked and called Ace  _broken_  to his face. He had yelled at the kid and blamed him, even after hearing about Thatch stumbling on the fire-user as he was about to jump into the sea and let himself drown. Haruta had kept antagonizing him, kept jeering, kept looking down on the brother who was unwell and driving the nails deeper into his coffin…

And so after Haruta had brushed off Ace's attempt to apologize— the final blow?— the kid had  _slit his wrists_.

The Twelfth Division Commander felt saltwater trickle down his face, dripping off his chin. He rubbed at his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold wall. Images of splattered blood branded themselves in his mind and Haruta clenched his teeth, trying not to cry loudly.

_Ace tried to kill himself. I hurt him so bad he wanted to_ _**die** _ _. I messed up. I messed up real bad. What have I done?_

The whole ship had to know what had happened by now. Haruta had screamed for Bay and even without seeing what had occurred, rumors would spread. Everyone would know Ace had tried to kill himself. Everyone would guess it had been because of what the short Commander had done.

_Everyone will know I'm a terrible brother._

Haruta sat alone in the brig, forced to face the consequences of his actions, and wept.


	21. Nature's Fury

Ace had to be crazy. Insane. Unhinged. Nuts. Mentally unsound. Off his rocker. Touched in the head. He already suspected that, of course, but his recent flow of 'logic' was beginning to make him sincerely consider he had indeed lost it. His lack of worry and careless disregard of such potential-insanity only helped to increase the possibility of said craziness but the fire-user could not bring himself to care about or fear that he had finally taken the trip to psychoville and was currently a proud resident.

The idea that Pitch had purposely refrained from killing Ace had lodged itself into his mind and refused to leave. There were many things wrong and illogical about that theory and many implications that came with it that the Summer Spirit did not like, but the foolish thought stayed anyway and made him  _wonder_.

The fire-user vaguely remembered a problem where people saw a lack of violence as 'kindness' and another one where captives came to gain 'sympathy' for those that had harmed them. He mentally acknowledged that it was likely he was suffering from some type of disorder that made him want to rationalize Pitch's behavior and actions and— even worse— maybe even humanize him. It was  _wrong_  on so many levels. Wrong and disturbing and awful and yet he could not help but speculate.

The Nightmare King had captured Ace. He had infected him with the black sand. He had tortured him. He had tried to kill him multiple times. He had attacked Jack and Luffy.

Pitch had also let him go instead of murdering Ace when he was helpless. He had given information and advice about the black sand, however callous it was. He had refrained from recapturing the fire-user when he could. He had removed a large portion of the sand. He had the power to kill Ace whenever he wanted but he did not.

 _These thoughts have the potential to be very bad_ , the logical part of Ace murmured.  _Feeling empathy because Pitch went through the sand's torments too is one thing. Trying to 'see good' in him is another and speculating that he may be trying to_ _ **help**_ _me is even worse._

Ace had to be insane. Or disturbed. Or more broken than he ever thought he could be. Something was deeply wrong with him, because no sane person would look at the Nightmare King and think 'not pure evil'. It was a good thing the fire-user was questioning his musings, otherwise he might have to convince Marco to lock him up in a white room somewhere.

At least he was not so deep in denial and naiveté that he was unable to see other potential justifications for Pitch's behavior.

_Possibility one: Kozmotis is in there somewhere and is trying to help me in roundabout ways. Possibility two: Pitch is manipulating me for fun and he'll probably stab me in the back first chance he gets once I 'trust' him. Possibility three: It's all coincidence and bad luck on his part._

Ace decided he must truly be desperate for a reason for Pitch's actions. Or he might just be plain old desperate. And yet one thing could not be denied.

Ace felt better. His head was clearer than it had in a long time and the tiredness did not weigh so heavily upon him. He had also discovered that touching other people no longer hurt when he had been forced to catch a tripping Thatch by his arm this morning. It could not be a coincidence that had happened after a portion of the black sand had been removed from his body.

Or maybe his current clarity had to do with his good mood itself and nothing more. The black sand fed on fear and the fire-user was most definitely not afraid at the moment. Instead he was determined, calm, and rather curious. That simple fact could be the source of his increased energy instead of the removal of some of the sand. Unless they somehow took out more to test that theory, there was no way to know and the Summer Spirit had no intention to try it himself.

Ace would not share his Pitch is not quite so evil theory with Marco— or anyone for that matter. He knew others would not take kindly to it. At best they would probably think the fire-user was crazy… crazier. At worst, there would be white rooms and lots of therapy with people telling him how wrong and bad his thoughts were. The idea would stay safely locked inside his head for now and maybe forever. Just because he mused that Pitch had semi-intentionally assisted him did not mean he was going to waltz up to the Nightmare King and give him a hug.

Pitch was still his enemy. He had tried to kill Ace's brothers. He was murdering and transforming people all around the world. He wanted to take over and maybe destroy said world. But at the same time, he might not be the wholly malevolent monster that many saw him as. There might just be a sliver of Kozmotis Pitchner still alive in there, and that speck of good could be exploited. Ace could not decide whether he would use said weakness to kick the Nightmare King's ass or try to talk him down. Both possibilities were open to him, and that in of itself was disturbing.

_I'm a mentally unstable idiot. At this rate I'm going to get myself killed._

The thought amused more than unnerved Ace. He had better not let his companions— or anyone else— know what was so funny though. Especially not with their current belief about the fire-user. No one had spoken to him directly or confronted him about it, but Ace knew why the Whitebeard Pirates were acting so cautious and careful around him, even more than they had before.

On the Moby Dick, injuries did not stay secret for long, though sometimes the truth got warped in the process of the news spreading around the vessel. The Whitebeard Pirates saw Haruta go screaming through the ship for Bay. The Whitebeard Pirates heard that Ace had been with a sleeping Thatch— in other words 'alone'— when he had been injured. The Whitebeard Pirates watched as Ace emerged with bandages around his wrists, accompanied by a fretful chef and a pale-faced Marco.

So they made the 'logical' conclusion. They did not even consider that an enemy had somehow gotten past them and to Ace, ignorance or maybe even arrogance blinding them from the possibility. Instead they saw how 'broken' the fire-user was, how 'shattered' and 'fragile' he was, and thought the Summer Spirit had finally collapsed beneath the pressures of life and decided to end it all, or at the very least hurt himself for reasons unknown.

Ace felt outraged, shocked, hurt, sad, and most of all,  _humiliated_. The Whitebeard Pirates did not try to hold back their stares any more. They watched him and judged him for what they thought he had done. The fire-user could not decide which was worse, the angry glares, cold looks, or pitying glances. The glares let him know they were furious that he had 'done that to himself' and that he 'dared to try to leave them again after everything'. The looks informed him that they could not believe he had 'sunk so low' as to slash his own wrists like a person who had no honor left.

The glances told him that they 'understood'— quotation marks firmly implied— and felt bad for him, like a rich King felt bad for the peasant child digging through a trash heap for food. The King did not understand. Instead he looked down upon the struggling, starving peasant and wondered why he could not live try harder and in a palace like him.

All three made Ace feel like an enemy or prisoner, someone outside the crew to be seen with mistrust and contempt. The way they had treated him before had been barely bearable, but now the Whitebeard Pirates had decided he was more fragile than the thinnest glass. Requests to assist with everyday tasks were denied. Many spoke to him in soft, careful tones like they were trying not to tell him he had a terminal disease. Conversations would cut off the moment he came near, leaving him to wonder if they were talking about him and 'the incident' or something that 'would make him upset'.

Ace kept his face apathetic nearly all the time now, inwardly torn between shame and fury as he looked down at his bandaged arms. He hated those wounds the most, despised them in fact, because they were the main source of the rumors. The wrappings on his chest, ankles, and sides were written off as mere 'self-harm' by the masses, but the wrists  _must_  mean he had attempted suicide because there was  _no way_  he had been attacked under the  _oh-so powerful_ Whitebeard Pirates' watch. The fire-user felt another rush of hurt and bitterness.

_I didn't do this. Pitch did. Do they think I'm so broken that I'd throw away my life like that? They don't know me at all._

But it was not like Ace could just reveal Pitch and his involvement, and trying to explain without mentioning the Nightmare King would only make him seem even more 'unbalanced, delirious, ill, and  _broken'_. The crew was too big, with too many various kinds of people and— because of his spotty memory— strangers for him to just announce he had been attacked to the public. Not to mention that giving the Spirit of Fear over two thousand more believers was not a good idea.

Ace wanted to tell the Commanders though. Oyaji already knew the truth, having summoned Marco to his room the moment he heard what had happened and the Phoenix had been willing to leave the fire-user. The Summer Spirit was grateful that the First Division Commander had been so blunt and unapologetic in clearing up the misconceptions with Whitebeard, Thatch, and Bay. However, that still left the other Commanders and their distorted preconceptions about what had happened. They needed to be told the facts, including about Pitch.

_Who may have been trying to help me, not kill me._

… _Welcome to Crazy Town. Logic is not required, disregard for death is encouraged, and you'll be lucky not to get murdered by your enemies before noon._

Ace forcibly pushed aside his speculations and drew a flower in the new notebook Marco had given him. The old one had been covered with blood. The fire-user was sad to have lost all of his pictures and previous words but it could not be helped. If he let himself think about it, he supposed he should be more upset about the fact that he had been injured enough to bleed so much than losing sketches. Oh well.

Ace sat in the mess hall with Izo, Thatch, and Vista around him. The three were his… companions for the day. A single person being on 'Ace-watching duty' was deemed as no longer acceptable so at least two pirates accompanied the fire-user at all times. As in,  _every single second_. The Summer Spirit liked and despised their constant presences in equal measure. On one hand, he understood that numbers decreased the chances of Pitch getting to him again. On the other, he could not help but think of the Commanders as babysitters.

 _Ace is incompetent and can't take care of himself_ , the fire-user sneered sarcastically.  _Leave him alone for a second and he'll slash his wrists._

Anger bubbled in his chest, with a deep misery lingering close behind. Ace held them in, knowing that none of the people present had done anything to deserve an outburst. He also knew that they refused to leave him alone because it was the smart thing to do, not just because they thought he was weak. But  _Manny curse it_  if Thatch shot him one more worried look or Vista gave him one more teary sidelong glance he was going to kick both of their asses to Raftel and back. At least Izo was still acting normal around him, the okama's ire directed more at the people staring at the fire-user than Ace himself.

Ace set down his pen on the table and flipped through the pages of his new notebook, focusing on each drawing and tracing a few words in an attempt to distract himself from his building irritation and grief. Another recent development was that instead of instantly sinking into depress— sadness when he felt moody, the fire-user got angry. His flames always lingered under his skin, burning and strong, and no amount of drawing could calm them.

Potential assistance or not, slivers of kindness or not, secret motives or not, Pitch had invaded Ace's home and sanctuary and inadvertently turned the Whitebeard Pirates against him. Not in the usual betrayal-involving way but in a way that made the Summer Spirit want to fly from the ship so that someone was not hovering over him every damn second.

Unintentionally or deliberately, the Nightmare King had broken the Whitebeard Pirates' trust in the fire-user. Specifically, he had broken their faith that Ace could be trusted with his own wellbeing and life.

And so they stared. And so they judged. And so they hovered. And so they  _pitied_.

Shockingly, the Summer Spirit blamed Pitch for that more than himself for once.

Huh. Maybe Ace did not have to worry about feeling sympathy for the Nightmare King after all...

The fire-user reached for his pen, only to freeze when Vista's hand shot out. The swordsman grabbed the knife that had been laying by the writing utensil, setting it down awkwardly out of Ace's reach as he shot him a nervous grin.

The Summer Spirit nearly went supernova, his rage skyrocketing dangerously. He wanted an escape. He  _needed_  an escape. If Ace did not get time to himself soon— without prying eyes and humiliating glances— he would literally explode. Or suffer another public breakdown and wouldn't  _that_  help his case?

Like the fire-user's thoughts had summoned him, Marco strode into the mess, greeting the brothers that called out to him even as his gaze scanned the room. The Phoenix's sharp blue eyes met Ace's and the blond pirate did not hesitate to make his way over to the Summer Spirit. Vista shot the First Division Commander a relieved look— that he likely thought Ace did not notice— and scooted aside to allow the Phoenix to sit beside the fire-user.

"How are you doing, yoi?" Marco asked quietly.

The expression Ace put on must have revealed more than he intended because the Phoenix visibly winced.

"I know you're upset and overwhelmed, but I'm afraid I can't do much to stop it." The blond pirate said lowly. "The Commanders are having a meeting later, however, and I thought you'd like to come along to… explain things."

This was neither the time nor the place to speak openly about Pitch. Ace understood. He did. He just wished he could tell the real story to the Commanders already so they would  _stop looking at him like a suicidal invalid_. Then again, hearing that the fire-user had been attacked and nearly killed under their noses might only make them even more overprotective and smothering…

The mess hall suddenly seemed to be too small. The voices were too loud, the people too cramped, and the walls appeared to be getting closer, shrinking inward and trapping Ace in a cage of wood. The fire-user's hands trembled as everything closed in around him, blurring slightly, and he was briefly reminded of the many nightmares where he was buried alive.

Ace stood abruptly and walked out of the mess hall at a quick pace. He heard his 'babysitters' stand up to follow but they were stopped by Marco's low tones. The fire-user distantly thanked the Phoenix as he gracefully exited the room. The moment the door closed behind him, it was like a switch was flicked and he took off running. A feeling he could not decipher gripped his limbs and he raced for the deck, breathing uneven and raspy as he fled.

The wooden walls and floor swayed and closed around him and the Summer Spirit felt his gorge rise. He burst outside, nearly removing the door leading below deck from its hinges, and took in gulps of fresh air with the desperation of a man escaping a poisonous cloud of gas. Ace put his hands on his knees, wheezing slightly. He knew that the short run was not the reason for his troubled air intake, however.

 _Can I just have a_ _ **day**_ _where something doesn't bother me?_  Ace snarled at himself, still teetering between panic and disgust.  _Just_ _ **one**_ _fucking day where I don't have a panic attack, or nightmares, or feel trapped, or freak out…_

Not caring who saw, Ace sat down on the deck and laid his forehead on his knees. He breathed in the salty air for a moment before flopping onto his back, looking skyward at the brilliant sun. A few fluffy clouds floated serenely through the expanse of blue and the fire-user took the time to see images in the white vapor as he tried to convince himself that he was fine.

_That one looks like a ship. That one looks like a rabbit. That one's a bird. Those two look like meat..._

Ace's heartbeat gradually slowed and his respiring grew less frenzied. The quivering in his hands ceased as well, but the discontent and strain lingered. The sky looked so endearing, open, and free. No one would judge him there. Pitch could not touch him there. If only he could…

Someone sat beside him and the fire-user tensed, ready to take off again if he met a pitying or concerned gaze. Marco looked at Ace calmly, a hint of sorrow in his eyes, but it was not enough to send the Summer Spirit flying into a rage or meltdown. The Phoenix said nothing and averted his stare to the sky, serenely observing the clouds.

The fire-user did the same and drew a few in his notebook. His desire for freedom— from the stares, from the watchers, from the claustrophobic halls— was not quenched though.

So eventually, after a long period of comfortable silence, he gained the resolve to ask  _"Can we go flying?"_

Ace was glad he did not need to speak the question, for if he did it would come out tremulous and pleading. Regardless, Marco seemed to spot his frantic need to get away anyway and nodded instantly.

"Of course."

There were no questions, restrictions, rules, or hesitation. Marco merely agreed. He really was nicer than Ace deserved.

Marco stood up and walked over to Thatch, who had been dithering in the doorway the whole time. Ace had not noticed him at all. The Phoenix said something to the chef, likely asking him to pass on their whereabouts to the others, and after a hesitant pause, the Fourth Division Commander nodded and retreated back to the mess. Marco returned to Ace's side and the fire-user shot him a sunny grin as he registered his request had been accepted.

"We'll only go a short ways." Marco told him. "Bay would likely have my head if she knew I was letting you fly, but I can see you want—"  _Need._  "—this."

Ace merely nodded rapidly, bouncing on the soles of his feet. He felt like a kid in a candy store, waiting for his parent to buy the sweets and hand them over. The fire-user glanced at his notebook and shrugged before dropping it carelessly onto the deck, so eager to leave that he did not bother to waste time handing it to someone. Marco spotted his impatience and chuckled before transforming into his Phoenix form. The Summer Spirit immediately took off with the firebird right behind him.

As the air rushed past him and he was propelled through the sky, Ace felt his worries and turmoil wash away, leaving an uplifting feeling behind. If he could he would be laughing aloud. Marco followed close behind the Summer Spirit, not near enough to invade his bubble of personal airspace, but in close enough proximity that he did not risk losing sight of the fire-user.

The ocean and heavens were limitless and open, with only the white clouds in their path. Ace dove over, under, and through the opaque vapor, feeling droplets of water on his skin, and smiled as he flicked a few at the Phoenix, who gave him an unimpressed stare. The fire-user shot him an innocent look, the thought that Marco might be sincerely angry at him not even crossing his mind.

The clouds grew thicker but remained white, almost like balls of cotton floating in the sky.

The fire-user soared over the mass—  _still_  smiling— and let his hand drift through them, wishing he could land on one like it was a giant pillow. Ace pondered whether that might actually be possible— seeing as how he was a Nature Spirit and all— but decided that was something to test another day. Preferably with Jack.

Ace flew onward, trusting Marco to stop him when they needed to go back. The Phoenix seemed content to fly serenely at his side, likely sensing the fire-user's need for solitude and attempting to give him as much as he could in the current situation. The flame-eyed Spirit appreciated the blond pirate's discretion and felt yet another burst of gratefulness towards the man.

He really needed to thank Marco. And Baby Tooth, Law, Whitebeard, and so many others. Ace felt a glimmer of pride that he was— finally?— able to remember his internal promise to show gratitude.

 _Maybe I_ _ **am**_ _getting better_ , he mused.  _I'm starting to remember more little details. I think I'm recalling more people's names too._

Ace felt rather giddy at the news and nearly spun through the air with glee. He did a few loop-the-loops, stunned by the amount of energy thrumming through his veins, and followed them up with a few corkscrew patterns.

 _I feel_ _ **awake**_ , he thought in awe.  _I'm not even tired yet. Is it because there's less sand or because I'm not so burdened? I don't have to worry about people judging me here or worrying. Oyaji accepted me even though I'm a Spirit. Pitch can't touch me in the sky. And Marco… he really_ _ **does**_ _understand. He knows that I'm different and have issues… but he cares anyway. He let me come out here even though almost no one else would. He let me have my freedom._

_I… I think I'm happy._

The thought made Ace twist and soar in uncontainable delight, incapable of whooping yet trying to show the world his joy all the same. He flew circles around the Phoenix like an excited baby bird showing its mother it could fly, diving in and retreating randomly. The Summer Spirit felt another bubble of mirth as the firebird stared in bewilderment that looked even funnier on the bird's face.

Ace floated above the Phoenix and went upside down, grinning toothily at the firebird. Marco glanced at him questioningly, fiery blue head tipping as he obviously attempted to decipher the reason for the Summer Spirit's playful mood.

Unable to explain, the fire-user merely shook his head in amusement and waved.

The Phoenix trilled back.

A barbed harpoon spawned from Marco's back, right beside his left wing.

Ace's thoughts ground to a halt, his horrified expression somehow mirrored by the Phoenix. The fire-user could only watch in shock as Marco abruptly transformed back into a human, plummeting from the sky with the weapon in his shoulder and blood spurting down his back and chest. Even from a distance the Summer Spirit could see the pained expression on the pirate's face as he fell, eyes round with agony and mouth open in a voiceless cry.

The Phoenix vanished beneath the clouds in an instant, swallowed up like he had plunged into the sea. Ace lurched into action, diving below the cloud cover in time to see Marco land heavily on the deck of the ship that had fired the harpoon. The blue and white flag it sported was unmistakable and the fire-user felt a torrent of varying emotions.

 _Marines_.

The lapdogs of the World Government did not notice the furious— and terrified— Summer Spirit above them, converging on Marco as they shouted to one another.

"I can't believe we got him!"

"Quick, chain him up."

"Careful. The harpoon is seastone but he's still dangerous. He's not Whitebeard's Second in Command for nothing. You! Cover him!"

Icy fear trickled through Ace as a Marine grunt put his gun to the injured Marco's head. The Phoenix's eyes went from dazed to alert and he lashed out at another Marine as the man tried to put cuffs on him, getting the soldier in the kneecap. The goon went down with a bellow and the first Marine slammed the butt of his rifle into the blond pirate's head.

Marco's eyes rolled unsettlingly but he remained conscious. His distraction gave them time to cuff him though, and the First Division Commander found himself sporting seastone manacles around his wrists.

For the thousandth time, Ace wondered if he was in a nightmare. He watched one of his greatest fears play out in front of him and desperately wanted to deny the realness of it. But the denial did not last long and the fire-user's instincts screamed at him that this was real, Marco was real, the Marines were real, and  _he needed to do something_.

A low chuckle caught Ace's attention and he looked to its source, meeting semi-closed eyes. The Marine Vice Admiral was vaguely familiar to the fire-user, wearing a war helmet and grey suit under his coat and holding a cigarette between his teeth. The Summer Spirit knew him from somewhere but he could not remember where. The sight of the man made his chest hurt though and Ace absently touched the place where Akainu had impaled him.

"Well, well, well... I heard the rumors that Portgas D. Ace was alive but I never thought they'd be true." The Marine said coldly. "And not only that, but I get to have a rematch with pirate scum that escaped me. It must be my lucky day." His eyes opened slightly wider and he looked at Ace like one gazed at a disgusting insect they found in their food. "I am Vice Admiral Onigumo, a champion of Justice. And for Justice, I will defeat you, pirate!"

Ace might have laughed at the cliché line if not for the fact that Marco was being held at gunpoint and the Vice Admiral was looking at him with a fanatical hatred in his eyes. He did not need a monologue to know this Marine followed Absolute Justice, murdering anyone who strayed the slightest bit from the 'righteous path' and operating without compassion or restraint in pursuit of his vile version of 'Justice'.

The mere sight of the remorseless bastard made the Summer Spirit's skin crawl and he had to resist the urge to put more distance between himself and Onigumo. He would never abandon Marco like that, no matter how much those uniforms reminded him of Marineford and false memories. The Vice Admiral noticed his unease and sneered.

"Nothing to say? You truly are a coward. As much as I want to strike you down, my orders are to bring you in alive, pirate. Your fellow criminal, however…"

Marco remained silent as the Marine yanked him up by the hair. His skin was ashen from blood loss, though his eyes were as fiery and unafraid as ever. Blue orbs met flame-colored ones and Ace did not need to be a mind reader to know what the Phoenix wanted him to do. Words did not need to be passed between them. The blond pirate wanted the fire-user to leave him and get out of there. Ace did not move, even when Marco's glare grew stern and a little desperate.

"Get down here and surrender yourself or we get to see if he can regenerate from a head shot." The Vice Admiral said coldly.

Instead of cowing Ace, the threat reignited the rage that had been simmering all morning. The Summer Spirit's expression shifted from uncertain to furious and flames crackled along his shoulders. A few Marines flinched and the one holding Marco pressed the gun more firmly to the Phoenix's temple. The Vice Admiral was undisturbed by the show of power.

"Don't try it, scum." Onigumo spat. "Unless you want your Commander to die, surrender.  _Now!_ "

Glaring at the man with all of his hatred, Ace slowly descended towards the deck. He and Marco could not have gotten too far from the Moby Dick, but it was unlikely that anyone would begin searching for them for a few more hours at least. That meant he would have to submit… and let himself be captured. The fire-user's stomach twisted into knots.

_They'll kill Marco if I don't. It'll be fine. They won't have us long enough to take me to Pitch or Akainu. Besides, seastone doesn't affect me anymore, so we'll be able to bust out once they stop threatening Marco._

The logical line of thought calmed Ace and he met Onigumo's aloof gaze apathetically as he raised his hands over his head. Marco went to say something but another strike to the head sent his head lolling. The fire-user forced his expression to remain placid and kept his flames firmly under his control. He would not risk them shooting the Phoenix.

A gun was put to Ace's head and again fear slithered up his spine. He brutally reminded himself that the Marines wanted him alive in this nightm— in  _reality_ , so they would not kill him. That did not stop him from flinching slightly as another Marine warily approached, seastone cuffs grasped in his hands. It's not like it mattered. Seastone did not hinder him anymore. Really, one would think Pitch would inform his pawns about the fire-user's powers—

The manacle closed around the Summer Spirit's wrist. Emotions rampaged through Ace, chaotic and uncontrollable, and he jolted back and forth between terror and rage.

_Chains mean captivity. Captivity means cells and prison and torture._

_How dare they chain me._

_I just escaped. I just got back to my family. Please don't take them away._

_You won't capture me again._

_They're going to kill Marco. They have no reason to leave him alive._

_I won't let you touch him._

_I can't be a prisoner again. I_ _**can't** _ _._

_I won't let you take my freedom!_

Only one thing kept Ace's flames hidden and prevented him from attacking out of fear or anger. The gun menacing Marco glinted in the sunlight, too close for the man to attempt to dodge, and with its wielder too far away for the fire-user to try to kill him before he could pull the trigger. The soldiers all relaxed when the manacles closed around the Summer Spirit's wrists, and Onigumo scoffed aloud.

"Well done, pirate. How kind of you to follow orders." He mocked. "I had believed you would abandon your crewmate like the coward you are, but it appears even scum like you are capable of caring about one another." He paused. Then a cruel grin crossed the Vice Admiral's features and Ace became instantly wary. "Normally you'd head right to the brig now, but let's just say I'm feeling a little  _vindictive_  at the moment."

Two Marines grabbed the fire-user's arms—  _Don't ignite. Not yet._ — firmly. Two more soldiers grabbed Marco, but instead of dragging him and the Summer Spirit below deck like Ace expected, they pulled the still-bleeding Phoenix over to his fellow captive. The fire-user looked into hazy blue eyes, which widened with dawning horror. Onigumo noticed the First Division Commander's expression and chuckled chillingly.

"Your Commander has realized the truth, it seems. We just have orders to bring  _you_  in alive. We have no such orders about  _him_. Normally a pirate of his caliber would be arrested for execution, but let's just say that the Government has learned its lesson from last time." He smirked. "At least, I'm certain they won't mind one less prisoner."

Ace went cold. He could not hide his fear, and Onigumo was quick to spot it and scoff.

"Still not going to speak? Not even to beg for his life? What's wrong, pirate? Too afraid?"

Ace could only stare at him silently.  _Don't hurt Marco._

The Vice-Admiral sneered in disappointment and gestured to his men. One struck the Phoenix in the head again. The fire-user flinched at the loud crack the gun made as it connected with his friend's skull, flame-colored eyes going round as blood dripped down Marco's forehead. The First Division Commander's own gaze was sharp with a mixture of fury and horror, the man obviously attempting to reassure Ace without words.

"Come on, pirate." Onigumo mocked. " _Beg_."

Ace tried to speak. Only the slightest sound escaped him, wordless and barely audible even to his own ears. The effort made his throat burn and he resisted the urge to cough or gag, instead continuing his pointless struggle to say something,  _anything_. The Vice-Admiral either did not notice his attempts, or did not care.

"Pathetic." He spat and nodded to his grunts once more.

Marco was pulled into an upright position before Ace. The gun was pressed to the Phoenix's forehead, the safety going off with a sharp click.

Instantly, Ace's paralyzing fear was swept away, replaced by a desperate anger. Anger fed the flames, and flames meant power, and that meant he wasn't powerless. He never would be powerless again not like losing Sabo or at Marineford or against Pitch or anywhere ever again because he was strong, he could do this, he could  _save Marco—_

The sky turned black.

The Phoenix looked into Ace's eyes, blue orbs filled with sorrow and regret.

The air heated up.

Those blue eyes begged the fire-user to avert his own, to look away so he would not have to watch his friend die.

The wind became a gale.

_Don't kill him. Don't kill him._

The dark clouds flashed with light…

_I won't let you kill him!_

Onigumo smirked triumphantly. "Shoot him."

And it  _rained fire._

Orange flames descended from the sky, filling the atmosphere with flashes of burning light that fell from the heavens with the fury of Hell. The sky became barren and lifeless, any birds having fled in fear. Even the ocean seemed to go still in surprise as the fire shot down upon it, droplets of flame plunging into the sea to be extinguished. Not all made it safely to the water, however.

The Marine threatening Marco jerked away before he could fire, screaming as his sleeve was set ablaze. Once-clean air became stifling and stale, smoke permeating the air as the woodwork caught fire. It was accompanied by the foul stench of burning flesh, some screaming Marines throwing themselves into the sea as their uniforms burst into flames.

Others desperately raced about the deck, shouting as they tried to put out the many fires that sprang up, but to no avail. It was like Armageddon had come at last, the blazing downpour falling upon the ship unforgivingly.

The literal firestorm was ruthless. It was terrifying. It was unnatural. It was barbarous.

To Ace, it was rather beautiful.

The Summer Spirit observed calmly as the Marines holding Marco were turned to ash, the fire-drops so hot and fierce that they were likely killed without feeling a thing. Ace was careful to keep the drops of plummeting flame away from the Phoenix as best he could, the fire-user himself walking through the inferno without a problem.

As Marines yelled and burned and died around him, Ace stepped through the fire like an otherworldly creature, unaffected by the heat and death. The flames licked at him but they were pleasant and merely warm as they caressed his skin, leaving him unburned and eternal among the wreckage. Heat would never harm him again.

He stopped beside Marco and did not hesitate to melt the seastone cuffs and remove the harpoon. Blue flames began to work on the wounds almost instantly, and color returned to the Phoenix's pale skin. He stood unsteadily, eyes watering slightly, and stared at the destruction and chaos with open shock.

His face wavered between awe and apprehension but Ace did not care. Marco was safe. The fire-user would not allow the storm to harm him, only those that had proven to be enemies. The Marines had hurt the Phoenix. They were working with or for Pitch. They intended to capture Ace. They wanted Marco dead.

Ace would not hold back against them, especially when they threatened his friend's life.

Onigumo's coat caught fire and he was forced to abandon it, cursing loudly as he stumbled away from the roaring flames. The mast caught like dry kindling, set ablaze in an instant, and a few Marines gave wails of despair. Ace did not feel triumphant or vindictive as he met the Vice Admiral's wide eyes, meeting his gaze evenly as the man's ship and crew burned around him.

" _Portgas!_ " Onigumo bellowed. "Stop this!"

Ace gave him what could only be a cold look.  _You work for the Nightmare King. You wanted to capture me. You hurt Marco. You threatened him. You wanted to kill my_ _ **family**_ _._

… _I have no empathy for you._

Ace sensed a shift in the wood below him and heard a menacing creak. He grabbed Marco by the right arm and took to the air. A second later, a loud  _crack_  ripped through the air, a noise that all seafaring men recognized and dreaded. The burning ship broke in half, sealing the Marines' fates, and the Summer Spirit did not regret it.

He was Ace, protective and strong. He was Nature, apathetic and cruel. He was Summer, vibrant and warm. He was a Season, ruthless and cold.

The Forces of Nature did not care for the humans caught in their rampages, snuffing out their lives as easily as a child picked flowers. Seasons were powerful, widespread, and neutral. People died within them, their demises unpreventable, and if Nature Spirits let themselves be hindered by the losses they would never be able to do their jobs. They had to sit back and release their creations of destruction without regrets, letting their possibly fatal storms go free regardless of the consequences.

It was true that Ace had targeted these humans purposely but they were allies of Pitch. They were the  _enemy_ , both because he was a former pirate and because he was one of Mother Nature and the Man in the Moon's children. The Marines would show him no mercy, so he would show them none in return.

Ace floated above the carnage with Marco clinging to him and they watched the Marine ship sink. A majority of the remaining soldiers drowned, unable to swim in the turbulent waters. Those that did not were slain by the fire-rain, some of the flames hot enough to burn holes right through the men like they were made of paper. Among them was Onigumo, who died from a fire drop through his forehead, exactly where the Marines had threatened to shoot Marco.

Ace surveyed distantly as they all died and did not feel victorious. He did not feel proud, elated, or even sadistically pleased. Instead he felt brutally calm, with the barest inkling of remorse. The Marines had been following orders. They had not stood a chance. Many likely had families. And he had just ruthlessly slaughtered them.

The thoughts were not enough to make the fire-user feel dismay or sorrow.

 _I just killed a lot of humans without giving them a chance for survival_ , Ace acknowledged.  _But I don't care. I will do whatever it takes to protect my loved ones._

_I_ _**am** _ _a monster._

The Summer Spirit heard Marco give a pained grunt. He looked down and saw the blue flames of the Phoenix's power do their work, slowly healing the blond pirate's injuries. Marco would still need medical attention, however. Ace hefted the First Division Commander over his shoulder before he could protest or argue that he could transform. The fire-user could not trust the man to fall into the ocean at this point, with Marco still too affected by the seastone and his wounds to fly.

Without an ounce of regret, Ace flew away, leaving the burning wreck and dead humans behind.

Marco did not make a sound as Ace carried him through the air. The Phoenix may still be trying to process what he had just witnessed, or was merely exhausted from his wounds.

 _Or he could be afraid of angering the monster_ , the colder part of Ace whispered.

The Summer Spirit ignored that thought and refused to consider it further. Marco cared about him. He would not fear or hate him, even after the merciless show of power the fire-user had just displayed. He had gone through this thought process before, and knew his worries were untrue. Ace wished he had the strength to keep remembering that.

He shifted his hold on Marco, keeping the pirate held firmly over his shoulder as they soared over the turbulent sea. The flight back to the Moby Dick was not playful or joyful. Instead it was urgent and direct, with Ace speeding through the clouds so fast wind gusted in his wake. He kept below the clouds this time, intent of scouring his surroundings, but no other Marine ships appeared on the horizon to attack.

 _Even if they did, I could just destroy them_ , Ace thought without malice or bitterness.

For a Summer Spirit, he could be surprisingly cold. Or maybe it was not so surprising after all. He had always been a monster.

The Moby Dick came into sight before Ace's thoughts could drag him down further. The first person he saw was Whitebeard, the giant in his usual chair with his face turned upward, obviously waiting for his son—  _sons_  to return home. The fire-user's sharp eyes pinpointed the moment the Yonko saw Marco, Whitebeard's yellow eyes going from warm to sharp in an instant.

The other pirates milling about on the deck spotted him a moment later, and the cheerful greetings were instantly snuffed out the moment they spotted who he carried. Happy grins became alarmed looks, and the fire-user saw Jiru run off to get the nurses. Ace hovered over the deck and panicked pirates rushed towards him, staying below him as they looked up with fearful eyes. A shiver went up the Summer Spirit's spine.

_What if they think I did this? What if they attack me?_

Ace pushed away the irrational thought immediately. The flames keeping him aloft sputtered out as he descended to the deck with Marco still slung over his shoulder. He immediately set the pale Phoenix down, and the blond pirate stared around him like he did not recognize where they were. Bay and the other nurses came onto the deck like a stampeding herd, and pirates fled before the medical staff, eager to get out of their way or risk being trampled. The fire-user stepped backwards as well to give the doctor room.

Alertness returned to Marco's blue gaze and he tried to shove Bay away. "I'm fine. I healed. It's nothing, yoi."

"I'll be the judge of that." The doctor snarled. She turned to Ace, who twitched as she pinned him with a demanding glare. "What happened?"

Ace's hands fluttered helplessly for a moment. His notebook was shoved into them by Vista. The fire-user took a moment to shoot the swordsman a grateful look before writing quickly.

" _Attacked by Marines. Seastone harpoon through shoulder. His fire seemed to heal most of it after I got it out but I'm not sure."_

Bay's eyes sharpened and she glowered at Marco. "You call that  _'nothing'?!_ " she snapped.

Marco decided that it was not worth it to have to heal from a pounding and wisely kept silent. Bay continued to snarl and mutter about idiotic birds as she checked the Phoenix over. Ace felt eyes on him and looked up to see the Whitebeard Pirates staring at him. He immediately tried to figure out what he had done wrong, and the thought that they blamed him crept up to choke him once more.

_First I 'try to kill myself', then I almost get Marco killed too. Why_ _**wouldn't** _ _they blame me? They probably think I did something stupid again and got us stuck in a trap. Well, I kind of did. I wanted to fly. I wasn't paying attention. I didn't see the Marines… It_ _**is** _ _my fault. Again._

The joy and freedom Ace had felt mere hours ago dwindled away to become a distant memory so faint it might not even be real. He was beginning to seriously wonder whether he could ever be happy. Whenever something good seemed to happen to him, many bad things followed to drag him down. The fire-user looked at the floor, avoiding the accusing eyes that bore into him. A hand touched his arm and the Summer Spirit flinched, gaze snapping up to meet Izo's calm face. The okama did not look mad at him but he could be hiding it.

"Ace, Oyaji asked you a question." The fair Commander said.

Ace glanced at Whitebeard guiltily, a heavy weight in his chest. He felt  _tired_  again. Not tired because of the sand. Just… tired and exhausted in general.

He just wanted to  _rest_.

_Please don't let this be another relapse. I was so much better this morning— comparatively. Don't take that away from me, too._

"What happened to the Marines?" Whitebeard asked as if he had not just voiced the question a few seconds before.

Ace saw flashes of fire, smelled burning flesh, and heard desperate screams.

" _Dead."_  he wrote.

"Good." Whitebeard stated.

He did not ask how, much to the Summer Spirit's relief. Said relief was quickly exterminated as Thatch and Vista sidled up near Ace in a way that suggested that they had tried to be subtle. The dim anger and sadness returned and the fire-user looked longingly at the open sky. He knew it would be a long time before he could return to it and felt a stab of grief.

Heart clenching, Ace walked up to Whitebeard's chair and clambered onto it, sitting on the giant's leg as he put as much distance as he could between himself and his  _babysitters_. It was a weak replacement for the freedom he wanted, but it was all he could do short of outright running away before they could catch him.

The Yonko did not question him, instead looking down at his son with knowing, solemn eyes. Ace did not write anything, instead leaning against his father and observing tiredly as an objecting Marco was carried off by a relentless Bay.

_My fault. Everything I do just seems to hurt people. I should have known. I can never stay happy._

He knew that if they learned of his thoughts, everyone would insist he was not to blame and had the right to be happy someday and was not a monster but Ace knew better.

 _I just wanted to fly_ , he thought morosely.

A hand landed on Ace's head and he twitched. Whitebeard did not berate him for his jumpiness. The fire-user ended up doing enough of that to himself on his own.

"Would you like to hear a story, my son?" the Yonko offered.

Ace was uncertain for a moment, feeling self-conscious and trapped out on the deck with all eyes on him. He really wanted to get away from the stares and hide again but could not request that his father move from his spot in the sun and back to his room. It was so rare for the nurses to let Whitebeard be outside these days. Instead he nodded and settled down more comfortably, taking care to stop himself from begging for a distraction from it all.

Whitebeard leaned back in his chair and began his tale. He spoke of battles and hardships, triumphs and losses, weaving grand stories of times long passed. Ace listened intently and slowly forgot about the vigilant pirates, Marco's injuries, and the Marines. Oyaji's voice was low and calming, accompanied by the softest rumble in his chest with each word, and the fire-user relaxed little by little. His fears and doubts did not fade, merely retreated to the recesses of his mind for a time. Maybe that was all he could ask for.


	22. Overcome

'Chaotic' did not begin to describe the Straw Hats and their antics. As the Guardian of Fun, Jack could appreciate having a good time, and he could not help but marvel at how wild they could be, efficiently causing trouble amongst themselves. They were rarely still, always causing mayhem and chattering with each other, so there was a comforting level of noise that wafted through the air near-constantly and letting others know that people were  _there_. It was like being a part of a huge family.

In a way they also reminded Jack a bit of the elves. Wild, crazy, random, and always getting into mischief. Not all of them of course, but Luffy and Usopp seemed to have made it their mission to make Nami punch the both of them. They were most definitely being bad role models for the impressionable Chopper, and the Winter Spirit heartily approved.

Jack leaned against the wall of the dining area and watched with amusement as the two generally made a nuisance of themselves, dancing and shoving each other as they made their way into the room. Since coming on board the Thousand Sunny, the Guardian had been avoiding the kitchen during meal times to evade the inevitable questions about his eating habits, but he had given in and been drawn in by the potential shenanigans that always seemed to ensue whenever the Straw Hats gathered.

It was time for lunch and Luffy was as impatient as he was when he was a child, reaching for the food with stretching arms long before it reached the table. Sanji was quick to kick his Captain over the head to prevent him from taking an entire plate of meat. The Straw Hat Pirate remained undeterred and directed his attention towards another dish only to be beaten back immediately.

"Stop trying to steal other people's food!" the cook scolded. "This is for Nami-swan."

Luffy pouted. "But the meat is mine." He said petulantly.

"And you can wait for it until I serve everything." Sanji said unapologetically. "You can't just—"

An arm snuck behind the cook's back, snatching the plate of meat from his hand. The pile was gone in seconds. Luffy's cheeks were so stuffed he looked like a chipmunk more than a human, with specks of food covering his mouth and face. Jack was torn between laughing out loud and wincing when the Straw Hat Pirate swallowed the meat, bones and all. He smacked his lips and grinned.

"That was great Sanji!"

The fuming cook set down the remainder of the dishes and turned on his Captain, glowering furiously. "Idiot!"

Movement made Sanji turn and Sabo froze with his hand still holding the end of the ham stuffed in his mouth. The Revolutionary may have attempted to smile disarmingly but even with his charm the cook's rage would not have been deterred. Jack chuckled lowly as he watched the blond pirate berate the Logia, unimpressed by Sabo's innocent façade, turning on his Captain's brother in an instant.

The rest of the Straw Hats and Law ignored the display and dug into their own food, only pausing to slap away Luffy's reaching hands. Even the skeleton guy— Brook— was eating. Jack had to wonder how that worked. Did he actually need the food like Spirits did? How did it not just fall to the floor if he did not have a stomach? Where did it  _go_?

 _Does he poop?_  Jack thought, and nearly laughed aloud at his mimicry of Luffy's common question.

Baby Tooth observed the fun from her favorite perch atop the Heart Pirate Captain's hat— her new favorite perch— chirping and giggling as the Revolutionary was berated. Sanji abruptly turned to Jack, who instinctively tensed, wondering what he had done to gain the cook's wrath.

"Don't linger in the corner. Come and sit down." The blond pirate practically ordered the Spirit.

The Guardian wandered to the table without complaint, feeling an odd rush of giddiness as he sat between Sabo and Law. It was still so strange, refreshing, and exhilarating to be seen so casually by so many people. Jack had been used to having believers back on Earth, but the past twenty-plus years on this world had make him sink back into his old habits of being invisible.

_But I'm not invisible. They can all see me. This is amazing!_

_I wonder why they couldn't see me before…_

"Do you need to have your staff at the table?" Nami asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Jack would more likely join the Marines than leave his staff laying around now. Pitch could attack at any time, and with the Straw Hats and his own luck they would be woefully unprepared. The Guardian wanted his weapon and power conduit to stay in his grasp and he would not relinquish it for anyone.

Jack thought about his words carefully and spoke. "It's precious to me. Like Luffy's hat is to him."

"Let him keep it, Nami." The rubber man said instantly.

That ended the argument. Another source of potential conflict rose up as Sanji stared intensely at Jack from across the table.

"You're not eating. Is there nothing you like?"

Jack shifted his weight, sticking his free hand in his hoodie. "No, everything looks delicious. I'm just not hungry. I don't need to eat much. Once every few days is good for me." He held up a hand to stall the righteous fury blooming in the chef. "I'm not being stubborn. I literally don't need that much food."

"He really doesn't." Koala supported the Winter Spirit. "He doesn't require as much food as most people. He's like the opposite of these gluttons."

She gestured at her partner and his brother, both of whom were scarfing confounding amounts of food like there was no tomorrow. Sanji relented, leaning back slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Fine. Do you have anything you prefer?"

Jack thought about it. "Uh, anything really. Sweet things are pretty good…"

"They're the best!" Chopper agreed.

The Guardian sent him a smile before turning back to the chef. "Any type of meat, though I'm not as obsessed as him." Luffy was currently devouring another humongous portion with the manners of a starving pig. "Nothing really hot, like tea, coffee, or hot chocolate." They would only freeze or cool down when he touched them. "The iced versions are fine though. Really, almost anything is good to me."

Sanji studied him for a long moment, searching for something in Jack's face. He diverted his intense stare before the Winter Spirit could feel self-conscious.

"I'll keep that in mind." Was all the cook said.

He turned to his own meal just as Luffy paused in gorging himself. The Straw Hat Captain turned to his navigator, speaking with a full mouth and spraying bits of food on the snarling woman.

"Hey, Nami. How long until we reach that island controlled by the Old Man?"

She shot him a sour glare and bopped him on the head, leaving a large lump. "Don't talk with your mouth full, idiot!" Nami wiped the crumbs off of her. "We should arrive within a few days depending on the weather. The skies are clear for now but you never know in the New World."

"Do you think they'll welcome us?" Usopp asked as he speared a bite of fish. "Or will they think we're going to attack them?"

Jack winced, recalling his last adventure on an island protected by Whitebeard. Koala seemed to remember the incident as well. She absently prodded at her food with her fork as she rested her chin on her other hand.

"We ran into a bit of trouble in the last Whitebeard territory we went to. The World Government has been spreading rumors that Jack here is responsible for all of the disappearances happening around the world."

The Straw Hats and Law all looked at her. Some expressions were worried, others surprised, and still others merely curious.

"People have been vanishing?" Chopper gasped.

"We already knew that." Zoro said gruffly.

"Oh, right. It's like that one town with the Nightmares." The doctor shivered.

"You guys just keep running into those things, don't you?" Jack mused out loud.

Usopp gave a wobbly laugh. "Yeah. Trouble tends to follow us."

 _Or Pitch is targeting you because Ace's brother is your Captain,_  the Guardian thought but did not voice.

"When we get to the island, I think I should stay out of sight at first." He said. "I don't want the natives driving you away because they think you're working with the 'evil' Jack Frost."

Luffy stopped gorging himself again and stretched out his neck to look into the Winter Spirit's eyes. Many would have been unnerved by the unnatural position of the Straw Hat Captain's head but Jack was used to it.

"You're not evil." Luffy said firmly. "You're a good person and I like you."

Jack blinked at his forgetful little brother and smiled tremulously. "Thanks." He said softly.

Luffy nodded and retreated to his seat… while simultaneously stealing Nami's remaining food. The navigator gave an indignant squawk and lunged for her Captain, who yelped and laughed as the orange-haired pirate tried to maul him. Amidst the rolling eyes, shaking heads, and Baby Tooth's musical giggles, Jack smiled to himself and closed his eyes, letting himself bask in the joy of companionship.

ROTGOPROTGOP

"We're being followed."

Bunny spoke the words softly, nearly casually, but his nose twitched and his ears were ramrod straight. North's hands drifted towards his sword and Tooth allowed her own fingers to brush the hilts of her weapons. A bundle of nerves gathered in the Guardian's gut and a thousand reasons for their pursuit raced through her mind.

_It could be a bounty hunter. Or a Marine. Or pirates. Or Nightmares. Or even Pitch himself._

"How many?" the Guardian of Wonder asked the Pooka lowly.

Long ears swiveled. "Four. All male human adults." His nose wrinkled. "They smell a bit like alcohol. Not like they're legless. They're sober."

At least they were not being chased by a group of drunkards then. Based on Bunny's analysis, Tooth doubted they were Marines. She could not picture the soldiers taking to alcohol on the job. That left bounty hunters or— as cliché as it was— pirates. North seemed to have the same line of thought as her.

"Might be pirates. Not all of them are on the Nice List. They may be dangerous. We should move on and leave."

The other Guardians nodded and walked quicker through the streets of the small village they had stumbled upon. North claimed that they had meant to find the place, but in truth he should be on his own Naughty List for lying.

The map and 'Log Prose' that the villagers from Moda's island had given them had been life savers, helping the Spirits find their way, but they still managed to get off track from time to time. Tooth had hoped their erratic flight pattern would confuse any hunters but apparently her wish had not been fulfilled.

"They're speeding up." Bunny reported. "They can definitely see us. Should I make a rabbit hole?"

North hesitated, then sighed. "Do—"

Tooth heard something and instinctively knocked the Guardian of Wonder to the ground. A small object— a bullet or dart?— whizzed over their heads, impacting the wall beside them. Someone shouted "Sniper!" and the calm town became a stampede, with humans fleeing and screaming in terror.

Tooth heard another whistle and rolled to the side, a bullet hitting the street where she once lay. She and North got to their feet, the three Guardians running for cover, and Bunny's emerald eyes focused on a distant rooftop.

"There. Fifth guy's got a bird's eye view."

Another bullet struck the mortar near Bunny's head and he leaned back into safety. "I can get 'im if you keep his attention."

North peeked out and withdrew hastily as three more bullets struck their cover. "No problem."

Bunny tapped his foot and vanished into the hole, leaving the flower behind. The cracks of bullets striking the building continued, and it was a times like this that Tooth lamented that Jack or Sandy were not with them. The Guardians could use a long-range fighter right now, not to mention the defensive power the Spirits both had.

The gunfire abruptly stopped and Tooth immediately looked out, just able to see Bunny grappling with a human atop the roof. She ran away from the building and took to the air, ignoring North's shouted warnings. The Fairy flew towards the struggling Bunny and man, just able to take in the human's unremarkable features. Brown hair, brown eyes, average, slightly ratty clothes. Unless he was a Marine undercover, this had to be a bounty hunter.

Tooth could see Bunny holding back as he wrestled with the human, the Pooka unwilling to harm a man that likely had no idea who or what he was dealing with. The bounty hunter had no such reservations, and the Fairy gasped aloud as he struck the Guardian of Hope in the jaw with the butt of the gun. The Pooka fell back, dazed, and the human aimed the barrel of the gun right between his wide eyes—

Crimson splattered through the air, and the man crumpled to the ground. Tooth gaped at the hole in the human's forehead, staring blankly at the gruesome and fatal wound with a horrified fascination. The bounty hunter was dead. He was definitely dead. He had been shot, killed. He was dead dead dead—

"Down!" Bunny snapped, tackling her to the ground. "There's another sniper somewhere."

Tooth stared at him uncomprehendingly. The Pooka cursed and leapt from the roof with the Fairy in his arms, down into the alleyway. North met them there, blue eyes round but expression stern.

"Rabbit hole. Now."

Bunny obediently tapped his foot. Movement caught Tooth's eye and she turned her head to watch as three men ran towards them. The one in front had really bright red hair. Red like blood.

North saw them too. "Go!"

They leapt into the hole, with the Guardian of Memories still carried by Bunny. As it closed behind them, she swore she heard one of the men call out to them, but his words were lost as they slid away through the burrows. The memory of the bounty hunter's death planted itself in her mind, and Tooth wished she could forget.

ROTGOPROTGOP

It seemed like all Ace did these days was mess up and find places to hide. He tried to deny that he had said 'retreating' tendencies, but here he was again, avoiding people and hunkering down with Whitebeard so people would  _leave him alone_. They were currently in the room used for the Commanders' meetings, the space wonderfully empty for the moment and lacking dozens of judging eyes. The Yonko sat at the head of the table, waiting for his children's arrival, while the fire-user perched on his leg, unwilling to move from the giant's side just yet.

While not nearly as bad as the rest of the crew, Whitebeard was still leery of letting Ace wander too far from him. It made him feel like a small child who could not be trusted to be three feet from his parent or risk becoming lost. Still, seeing as how Pitch could appear out of the shadows to recapture the fire-user at any moment, the Yonko's paranoia may be justified. That little fact helped temper the Summer Spirit's simmering resentment and allowed him to willingly linger near his Oyaji with little complaint. Notably since the alternative was going back to his babysitters and just thinking about that made Ace want to run for the hills.

Hopefully the misconceptions causing the Commanders to smother Ace would soon be rectified. Or the truth just might make things worse. With the Summer Spirit's luck, it would  _definitely_  make things worse. Regardless, he enjoyed his welcome reprieve from the stares and rumors, staying with the only pirate who knew most of his secrets and would likely escape unscathed if Ace's presence caused another disaster. The fire-user was a danger to everyone around him, after all.

And Ace was  _not_  also remaining with Whitebeard to avoid Marco. Not at all. The Phoenix was allowed out of the infirmary and if he needed to talk to the fire-user he would come here. He was aware where the Summer Spirit resided. Ace did not need to go see him. And he was not evading the blond man because of guilt or something because Marco had been injured due to his stupid, selfish request. He was  _not_.

Ace used the remaining time to write what he wanted to share with the Commanders about Pitch and the truth about his injuries. He only revealed the necessities, like the Nightmare King being his captor and the Spirit of Fear's basic powers. Ace's own nonhuman status remained unmentioned and would stay that way if he had any say about it.

Many words were crossed out and replaced, with the fire-user constantly second-guessing himself. He agonized over the Commanders' potential reactions and questions, becoming more and more convinced they would pressure him into giving answers with each passing second. Ace's logical mind told him such fears were ridiculous at best but the doubts lingered like they always did.

His fear and simmering fury did not rise to the surface and drown him, however. Ace was too tired for that. It was becoming increasingly hard to focus, and the fire-user was beginning to feel apprehensive about his constant state of exhaustion. He could not sleep. That was a simple fact. But even Spirits required rest and Ace had not slept in days nor rested peacefully in months. As much as he wanted to persevere and fight, the Summer Spirit was going to crash soon, and no amount of willpower and pacing was going to stop it.

_I'm going to fall into nightmares again soon. I wonder how long it will be this time._

Ace did not linger on such thoughts, however. He could not linger on them, or he would become afraid. And being afraid would only hasten the process. Instead when his mind when to dark places, he focused on Whitebeard's steady, strong heartbeat, listening to the calming rhythm and allowing himself to relax. But not too much. He did not want to fall asleep.

Time ran out too quickly and Ace stared at his words, feeling as prepared as a man expected to give a public speech about a topic he had no knowledge in. His nervousness— fear?— was accompanied by a rush of exhaustion but he shoved it away. He jumped down from Whitebeard's leg and reluctantly sat in a seat on his left side. The fire-user tried to steel himself for the stares and unwanted pity that would be directed at him soon, and his self-directed revulsion and indignation reared their ugly heads.

_I hate this. I hate feeling so… so…_ _**insecure** _ _. But I honestly can't say that they will even_ _**believe** _ _me about Pitch. Sure, I have Oyaji and Marco backing me up but some of them still might think these injuries are my fault…_

Whitebeard touched his shoulder, causing the fire-user to break away from his thoughts and look up at the giant.

"Do not fret, my child." He said softly. "You will be fine."

Ace wished he had the Yonko's confidence.

The Commanders filed into the room in small groups right before the designated time. Most reacted to the former Commander's presence with surprise, while others looked less than pleased to see the fire-user there. Izo sat on Ace's left side, nodding cordially to the fire-user and eying his brothers sharply. The other Commanders greeted Oyaji normally and took their seats, with a harried Marco arriving second-to-last.

The exasperated expression on the Phoenix's face told Ace that Bay had likely tried to make Marco ditch the meeting for another examination. The doctor would not be content that the Zoan was completely healed from his run-in with seastone for a while yet, presumably muttering about potential side-effects and fragments in the bloodstream if the aftermath of Ace's own previous seastone-inflicted wounds were of any indication.

The First Division Commander nodded to his brothers and sat beside Whitebeard, across from Ace. The fire-user looked at the tabletop to keep himself from studying the Phoenix and seeing any potential bandages for his wounds. Marco had fully healed, right? Right?

A minute passed, then two, with the Commanders conversing comfortably with each other. Izo leaned over and spoke softly to Ace, only loud enough for the Summer Spirit to hear.

"I apologize for not informing you sooner, but I am already aware of Pitch and what happened to you." When Ace shot him a confused look, the okama smiled slightly. "Marco told me why you are here. I'm just letting you know I am informed and will help explain things if necessary. Is that all right with you?"

Ace immediately bobbed his head in assent, the tension in his shoulders lessening slightly. Marco, Thatch, Whitebeard, and Izo all knew about Pitch and the truth about the attack. That gave the fire-user four allies here, leaving twelve Commanders to face and convince. Or maybe only eleven…

Haruta was not present, the short Commander noticeably absent from the room. Ace supposed he could be running late, but it was odd for the blue-eyed pirate to be tardy to a meeting. Unless he was setting up a prank somewhere and lost track of time. The fire-user found himself hoping that was the case.

"Where is Haruta?" Whitebeard questioned.

"I think he got held up in navigation." Jozu informed their Oyaji. "We could be facing some bad weather, I think. Nothing too serious but he said to have the meeting without him."

The Yonko frowned slightly but accepted the Commander's excuse. Ace was not so certain.

 _Is Haruta still staying away from me?_  He thought, then mentally shook his head.  _No. He was needed in navigation. Nothing more._

"We'll make this quick, then." Whitebeard stated, beginning the meeting without preamble.

He looked to Marco, who straightened in his chair. "I want to clear up some rumors that have been passing around the ship." The Phoenix said sternly, pinning each ignorant Commander with a cerulean glare. "Ace did  _not_  harm himself, yoi. He was attacked."

Apparently Ace's notes might be unneeded. He could not claim that he felt upset about that. The less attention he received, the better.

The Commanders shifted about, probably taken aback by Marco's bluntness. Then the Phoenix's second sentence registered and Rakuyo jumped to his feet, eyes burning with rage.

"What happened? Who did it?" he demanded furiously.

"It was the same person who kept Ace captive." Marco revealed. "His name is Pitch Black. He has the power to manipulate fear, darkness, nightmares, and shadows." The Phoenix hesitated, then gestured at the black marks on Ace's skin. "These marks are the result of one of Pitch's abilities. He has control over black sand that causes people to fall into their greatest fears, trapping them in nightmares. Normally the process would turn them into Fearlings— those humanoid black monsters we have been hearing rumors about— but Ace was immune, yoi."

Marco's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. "The sand was supposed to kill Ace but he survived. So while Ace was in his room, Pitch Black knocked out Thatch, cut Ace, and began to forcibly remove the sand through the incisions." The Phoenix's voice stayed calm, but his balled hands shook. "He caused Ace's injuries,  _not_  Ace himself."

"And he'll be back to try again." Jozu predicted forebodingly. The Third Division Commander's hands closed tightly around his biceps and his jaw set in a harsh line. "Why weren't we informed sooner?"

"Knowing about Pitch gives him power, fearing him even more so." Marco said. "Shanks was the one to tell Oyaji, Izo, and I about 'the Nightmare King', but he asked us to keep it from you for a time until either he returned or Ace gave his permission to tell you."

More than one pirate looked upset about being kept out of the loop but they moved on instead of moaning about the past.

"You said Black has control over darkness?" Kingdew questioned. "Like Teach?"

More than one pirate stiffened at the mention of the traitor's name.

"In a way." Marco admitted. "As far as I know, he can just move through shadows and control them…"

He trailed off as Ace quickly wrote something down in his notebook and handed it to Izo.

"'Pitch can manipulate shadows, but in battle he primarily uses black sand that he can transform into weapons. He also knows a person's greatest fear just by looking at them, create illusions, and manipulate dreams and nightmares. Also, like Marco said, he can teleport through darkness and wield it to an extent.'" The okama read and gave the notebook back.

"So he's like a Blackbeard with more variety." Rakyo muttered bitterly. "I'm surprised those bastards haven't teamed up."

"Actually, no one has seen or heard about Blackbeard and his crew since they razed one of Oyaji's islands a few months ago." Curiel mentioned. "They just… vanished."

There was a beat of uneasy silence as everyone wondered what that could mean. Ace understood the Commanders' confliction. On the one hand, Blackbeard was currently not being a nuisance. On the other, he was out there and in hiding, likely waiting for his chance to cause more chaos, destruction, and misery.

 _Unless he died somehow. I wonder if Pitch killed him_ , Ace thought, before pushing the ludicrous leap in logic away.

"So what are we going to do about Pitch Black?" Namur asked, bringing the conversation back to their current darkness-inclined problem. "I can tell he isn't some pushover rookie nipping at our heels that we can swat away like a bug..." He stopped talking for a time and his eyes narrowed. "He isn't just after Ace, is he?"

Marco nodded wordlessly and low murmurs broke out around the table. Ace nudged Izo and handed him his notebook, pointing at a couple sentences he had previously wrote.

"'Pitch Black is the one who has been causing the disappearances everywhere.'" The okama read aloud, drawing all eyes to him. "'He has been kidnapping people to turn them into Fearlings. He's building an army.'"

"To do what?" Curiel asked warily.

They were all looking at Ace now and the fire-user paused before writing. Izo accepted the notebook back, glancing at the new message. The okama stilled, likely taken aback by the words.

"Izo?" Thatch prompted.

The Sixteenth Division Commander shook his head to clear it. "'Pitch does not want to conquer or cause wars or anything like that.'"  _Here, anyway. He's saving that for Earth_ , Ace thought. "'He just wants to destroy everything until there is nothing left but fear and darkness and him.'"

The words seemed too loud in the oppressive silence that followed the warning. Ace could see many of the Commanders were unnerved. He tried not to ponder if unease was enough to make Pitch stronger.

"That's not menacing at all." The chef of the group muttered with a forced chuckle. "But seriously, 'destroying the world'?" He said Pitch's goal in a way that did not quite manage to be mocking, as if he were attempting to find the notion funny but could not.

Ace took the notebook, wrote, and returned it to Izo.

"'He's done it before.'" The Sixteenth Division Commander read in a whisper.

Ace observed as the unease turning into something more sinister— and powerful— and silently berated himself for his idiocy. He should not have said anything. He should not have even hinted at Pitch's past crimes and misdeeds. The point was to make sure the Commanders would  _not_  be afraid of the Spirit of Fear, not terrify them with tales of mass murder and genocide.

_Here I go again, making stupid mistakes..._

"Pitch is a threat, but he is not an all-powerful menace." Whitebeard declared calmly. "He is only a person and he can be defeated."

 _If only you knew_ , Ace thought darkly.

His pen hovered over the page, ready to inform the pirates just how unstoppable the Nightmare King could be, but the fire-user refrained from writing anything.

_Pitch is immortal. He cannot be killed, only imprisoned or beaten back for a time. And unless someone magically conjures up one of those dagger-things Jack told me about, we have to way to hold Pitch. At best we can only try to weaken him. If I tell them that, they'll only become more wary—_ _**afraid** _ _— of him and what he can do. But if I don't tell them, they'll think they can just stab the Spirit of Fear with a sword and that will kill him._

The thought of one of the Whitebeard Pirates impaling Pitch and thinking they won, only to be struck down by the unharmed Spirit made Ace feel sick to his stomach. He began to plot out a compromise of information he could share with the pirates that would let them know about Pitch's threat without making them worry. The fire-user squinted at his attempts but the words stayed blurred. He rubbed furiously at his eyes.

_I can't be tired. Stay awake._

"…which is why I've summoned our Allies." Whitebeard continued.

Ace comprehended that he must have missed a large portion of the Yonko's words and he scowled at his notebook.

 _I zoned out again. Manny curse it! Still… The Captains are coming here? Great. More people_. Ace thought unhappily.

He was not even used to the Commanders yet, let alone his own— former— crew. How was Ace supposed to deal with even more Captains and  _their_  crews?

 _There will be so many pirates I'll have to be around. They'll wonder how I'm alive. They'll want answers. But I told Oyaji everything so hopefully that will be enough for them,_ Ace thought.

He idly noticed Vista's mouth moving and cursed himself again.

 _They're still talking. Focus._  Ace hoped he did not ignore too much important information. He blinked lethargically and rubbed at his eyes irritably.  _Not now._

"…why the Marines were in this area." Vista said with a slow nod. "They must have heard you were gathering the Captains under our command."

Ace glanced around at the quietly fuming Commanders and accidentally met Marco's gaze. He quickly looked back down at his notebook, drawing a sun. As he sketched the corona he remembered he was meant to be paying attention and despised his frustrating scatterbrained tendencies all the more.

_Focus._

"Perhaps." Whitebeard murmured. "Regardless, the Allies will arrive within the week."

Ace wondered why they were all coming here, to the Moby Dick. He supposed telling them about Pitch through a Den Den might not be the best idea but it was not like the pirates knew where the Nightmare King was so they could go fight him. The fire-user felt an unsettling chill at the thought of his friends facing the Spirit of Fear, an anxiety that only grew the more he mulled over it.

Understanding came to him like a strike to the face.

_Jack and I are the only ones who can't become Fearlings. If anyone else gets a single cut or bite from a Nightmare or one of Pitch's sand-weapons, they're goners. People… are going to die, aren't they? No, they might not die. Their fates could be worse than that if they're transformed. They could become corrupted souls, doomed to be Pitch's slaves until they're obliterated._

Dread settled heavily on Ace's shoulders as his skin paled. A tremor began in his hands, and when he curled his fingers, the shaking refused to stop. The fire-user tried to form coherent thoughts but all he could think about was the sound of his pulse throbbing in his ears, frantic and quick. His breathing grew loud and ragged, and if it caught the attention of the Commanders, Ace could not tell, his mind sinking into a fuzzy haze.

At first Ace did not understand his fear. There had been plenty of nightmares where the crew— his  _family_ — had faced Pitch in battle and fallen to him. But this time it was  _real_  which meant that the people around him were real and would be in the line of fire. He knew that Marco and a few others may actually care about him. He knew they might fight for him. That meant they would be putting their lives and very souls on the line for his sake and fighting a powerful enemy they should not have to for him.  _Again_.

Memories of Marineford haunted Ace, flashes of destruction, despair, pain, and death playing out in his mind's eye. He recalled the trials and misery that the Whitebeard Pirates— and Luffy— went through in their attempt to rescue him. He remembered Oars Junior's brutal death and many pirates being slaughtered. He relived his own demise at Akainu's hands.

Ace's stomach lurched and he gave a heave, swallowing rapidly with a hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep the little food he had consumed from coming back up. Someone grabbed his shoulders— Marco? Izo? Thatch?— but he had no hope of identifying them.

Ace was meant to be here to show the Commanders he was fine. He was meant to prove he was functional and okay. Instead he was  _panickingscaredoverwhelmed_  again. He helplessly grew lightheaded as his vision blurred, swayed, and faded to various grey hues, color sliding away like dye in a stream. The fire-user desperately tried to compose himself.

 _Calm calm calmcalmcalm. Can't breathe. Can't—_  Everything darkened sickeningly. _I'm going to fall unconscious._ _ **Shit**_ _._

Ace could not let that happen. He could not fall into nightmares again. But he was exhausted and scared, so his streak of wakefulness decided that now was the time to abandon him. The rush of fear and lack of helpful adrenaline that usually came with it dragged the fire-user downward. If he did not know better, the Summer Spirit would swear Pitch was purposely pulling him into unconsciousness.

Ace had made yet another mistake. It could be days before he woke again. Weeks. He had to tell the Whitebeard Pirates. He had to warn them so they knew how deadly the sand was before it was too late.

Half-blind, Ace wrote as best he could, words likely scrawled sideways and over each other in his frantic attempt to pass on his message.

" _The sand is an instant-kill for anyone other than me and Jack—"_ Ace's hand jerked. He may have stopped writing the Spirit of Fun's name or accidentally scribbled over it. He could not tell.  _"If it gets into your bloodstream it will turn you into a Fearling instantly. There is no cure. You cannot stop it. It may be possible to prevent a transformation if you can remove the infected body part but only if you are quick enough."_

Ace's hand spasmed again, the pen jolting off the page, and then he was falling. There was so much more he needed to share, so much more he needed to tell them about, but the black sand— powered by his terror and exhaustion— lunged like a predator and closed its jaws around him.

The world went from grey to black and Ace snapped awake in the cell. He did not need to open his eyes to know he was in that terrible dungeon from his memories, his ankles and wrists once again shackled by cold, constricting metal. Surprisingly, panic did not manage to grip him just yet, only a forlorn sadness that buried its way into his heart and made him feel cold. Knowing it was useless to pretend, the fire-user allowed his eyes to open.

Ace's vision focused on the cloak-covered feet in front of him and he took a moment to swallow, refusing to lift his gaze further for a time. He could not tell where the shadows ended and the person began, his companion's body almost melded with the darkness that surrounded him.

Somehow, Ace was not afraid of the darkness or the Spirit that wielded it. He was not even afraid of the upcoming torture he would soon face. He— mostly— knew what to expect from the nightmares and was used to them. None of it was real, so none of it mattered. The fire-user just had to  _remember_. He had to stay strong and recall that in reality he was not hated and alone. He had gotten so far, and it had taken such a long time to recover as much as he had, and the fear of relapsing and falling back into a more fragile, mistrustful state filled him with dread.

But this first nightmare would likely not involve the people he loved betraying and harming him. The Guardians would not shun him. Faceless villagers would not despise him for things that were not his fault. Jack, Luffy, and Sabo's grisly demises would not play out before his eyes. No, this vision would probably have more unique torments. He had woken in this cell for a reason. Pitch stood before him for a  _reason_. Needless to say, it was unlikely the Spirit of Fear had dragged him here for tea.

Mind games and manipulation were to be expected, but preparation might not be able to stop him from doubting again. Wounds would not transfer to reality but the 'memories' of those injuries would make it all seem terrifyingly real. This was a nightmare, which meant Ace could survive  _anything_. And after their last encounter in the real world, the Summer Spirit was sure that the Nightmare King would take full advantage of that.

 _I can do this_ , the fire-user tried to assure himself.

Ace steeled himself and slowly raised his head, meeting Pitch's eclipse-like eyes.


	23. Theories

For the longest time, Spirits of Summer and Fear stared at one another in complete silence.

Unnerved caution was Ace's primary state of mind, with the fire-user unwilling to break the mute standoff less Pitch decide to hasten his likely sadistic plans for him. In any other situation the quiet may have been affable or nice but with his current companion it was certainly not. He felt like he were standing atop a bomb that would explode if he moved, each breath and blink feeling like it would be the mistake that triggered the Nightmare King's rage.

The part of Ace's brain that was not focusing on 'survival' was trapped in a mass of swirling emotions. He wavered between apprehension, courage, doubt, and fury, assuring himself that he would be fine and it would end eventually while simultaneously mistrusting his ability to resist drowning in his fears and falling into despair again.

The fire-user wanted to let the anger at Pitch bubble to the surface and explode but could not rely on it to keep him afloat when the Nightmare King tormented and belittled him. His rage could fizzle out too easily, leaving him empty and vulnerable, so he did not allow it to take him over and make him say something that would only cause him more grief in the end.

It did not help that the stupid questions and illogical theories he had cooked up were creeping back into his thoughts. He could not act upon any of them. He dare not to. If he did, Pitch would definitely get mad and likely beat him up again— or worse— like he had so many times before. Ace was used to torture and death— far more than any sane person could be— but that did not mean he wanted or was ready to face it again.

So he sat quietly, staring at Pitch like a child afraid of upsetting his parent, waiting for the Nightmare King to make the first move. If he was lucky, maybe the Whitebeard Pirates would figure out a way to wake him. Ace nearly snorted aloud at the ridiculous notion. His lips must have twitched or mirth must have shown in his eyes, because Pitch's narrowed dangerously. The fire-user tensed, dropping his gaze.

 _I can do this_ , he chanted silently.  _I can do this._

Pitch stepped forward and Ace's thoughts split and floundered, caught between wanting to glare defiantly and shrink back against the wall—

"Thank you."

Ace's mouth moved without his permission, the words making their way out of his head without his conscious mind wanting them to. His sudden bout of stupidity was probably assisted by the fact that he was mute in reality and could not speak no matter how much he wanted to. But it was too late to take the statement back now.

The Summer Spirit had the pleasure of seeing confusion flicker through Pitch's expression before the emotion was extinguished by a neutral look. Neutral was acceptable. It was okay. Neutral was not angry, which was better than what he expected because, if anything, his stupid words should have sent the Nightmare King flying into a rage that would result in Ace being on the receiving end of a whole lot of pain—

"Have you finally lost the remnants of your sanity?" Pitch asked flatly.

The neutrality— no anger yet, thank Manny— made the tension leave Ace's shoulders, and like the idiot he was he relaxed. He knew it was a stupid idea at best but he could not help himself. Not when he had been expecting reactions that were so much worse.

"Maybe." The Summer Spirit admitted, voice slightly hoarse. He wondered how that worked seeing as how this was a dream. "But I mean it."

Pitch stared at him like he could not decide to laugh in his face or slit his throat. Or do both. "Oh really? Please, do tell me why I have earned your  _gratitude_."

The Nightmare King managed to be both puzzled and scornful, genuinely curious about the fire-user's reasoning while also itching for an excuse to tear him apart, physically or mentally.

"You didn't kill me." Ace said, concluding that honestly was the best policy since he was already three feet into his grave. He might as well dig himself deeper. "You could have, but you didn't. You also got a bunch of the black sand out and I actually feel better because of it. So… Thank you."

 _What the hell is_ _ **wrong**_ _with me?_  The not-crazy part of him hissed. The rest of him was just happy he was currently not being stabbed. He was usually impaled by now.

Pitch studied him for a long moment, still wearing that disinterested face. "I almost killed you multiple times… including a little instance where I nearly  _tore you apart_  from within… and you're  _grateful_  to me?"

"Yup." Ace said simply.

 _I'm so going to die,_  the lucid piece of him whispered faintly.  _I am gonna die die **die**..._

Pitch exhaled slowly, eyes sliding closed. He stayed like that for a minute, deep in thought, and the Summer Spirit did not have the motivation to interrupt him. Or maybe Ace still had some self-preservation instincts left.

The Nightmare King lifted his eyelids and knelt in front of the chained Ace, one arm laid casually across his cloak-covered knee. Pitch studied him with that same apathetic expression, keeping his silence. Due to their closeness, the fire-user saw that his irises were more silver-gold than yellow. It was almost like moonlight was peeking out from behind the cold blackness of his pupils. Ace may only be seeing what he hoped, but he swore there was warmth and sadness in those eyes.

"…Kozmotis?" he asked softly.

Ace had just enough time to see the supposed warmth vanish from Pitch's gaze before a familiar pain in his gut made him scream out loud. The Nightmare King twisted the black blade he stuck in the Summer Spirit's side cruelly, visage still apathetic. Ace felt tendrils of sand rip its way through his abdomen, wrapping around his organs and making him writhe. Flashes of his previous encounter with Pitch haunted his mind but he managed not to panic or struggle.

_Just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare._

The fire-user could not breathe. It was impossible for him to, his air cut off as effectively as if hands had been wrapped around his throat. He was distantly surprised Pitch had not started literally strangling him yet but it was just a stab wound it was fine he was fine he could handle this he was  _fine_ —

"You never learn, do you?" Pitch asked him coolly. "Foolish boy. It's almost like you  _want_  to antagonize me. Do you like being broken so much?"

"Not b-broken." Ace gasped, concurrently cringing at and applauding himself for his defiance.

He really needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut again. Suddenly being able to talk was difficult. He kept saying things he should not. Pitch did not appreciate his unintentional boldness, ripping the dagger out and leaving Ace bent double in pain. He curled up as much as he could in his chains, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep himself from voicing his hurt. He did not want to show more weakness.

 _Am I_ _ **fighting**_ _again?_  Ace thought curiously, and was unsure how he felt about his renewed resistance.  _I shouldn't. I can't do anything. Pitch has all the power here and if I act up he'll only hurt me more._

Fighting caused more misery, but Ace found he could not just lay down and take Pitch's torture this time. Maybe he really was getting better. Maybe he was in fact worse and no longer cared about his own well-being. Or maybe it was because he was in a nightmare and nothing mattered here. Only his mind could break.

Ace's turbulent emotions were mercifully replaced by a wonderful numbness. The fire-user thanked his damaged psyche for its adverse reaction to anything bad, though it was not enough to stop him from trembling completely.

"I don't understand you." Pitch informed him. "Even now you struggle. Even now you  _try_. There's no point in enduring. It is as I told you: You cannot beat fear."

"Fear can't beat  _me_  either." Ace retorted in a soft voice, even as he acknowledged he should have kept his proclamation to himself. He felt as if he had said the words before but for the life of him could not recall when.

 _Wow, I really_ _ **am**_ _being uncompliant today,_ he marveled.  _This is going to end badly for me._

 _Distance yourself. Go numb. Detach before it's too late!_  The last glimmer of self-preservation within him wailed.

Pitch sighed. The sound was low and soft. To Ace's reaching, definitely crazy mind, it almost seemed melancholic.

"You don't understand how wrong you are, child." The Nightmare King said tonelessly. "It may take longer than expected, but the inevitable will happen. You  _will_  fall."

He stabbed Ace again and dragged the blade across his stomach, slicing the fire-user open from hip to hip.

A few agonizing minutes later, Ace jolted awake in a bed in the infirmary.

As soon as his eyes opened, Thatch appeared in his vision, blocking his view of the infamous white ceiling he despised. The chef was noticeably unkempt, pompadour mussed and frizzy with strands of hair sticking out. He also sported dark bags under his eyes, much like Marco always did lately. Ace felt a bubble of guilt but dismissed it.

_Not the time. Focus._

"You're awake. Oh, thank Oda!" Thatch said. He looked to his left. "Izo, he's awake!"

"I can see that, Thatch." The okama said dryly. He shifted forward in his chair, wincing like he had been in the same position for a while, and shot Ace a look that conveyed both relief and disapproval. "You gave us quite the scare. I'm surprised Marco did not have a heart attack."

Ace internally cringed. He glanced around for his notebook— spotting Haruta loitering near the door during his search— and saw it in Izo's hands. The okama followed his gaze, made a small scoffing sound, and handed the fire-user his means of communication. The damaged part of Ace flinched and wondered what he had done to make the Sixteenth Commander sneer at him, while logic told him that Izo likely was berating  _himself_  for not giving the mute Spirit the notebook immediately. The second line of thinking helped calm Ace down and he scribbled a few sentences.

" _I'm sorry about that. How long has it been? Where's Marco?"_

Thatch and Izo leaned in to read his hastily scrawled words. Haruta stayed by the door, balancing against the frame with a stiff posture and a frown pulling at his lips.

"It's only been a couple days." Izo assured him. "We've been taking shifts watching over you but someone has refused to leave your side."

He glanced sidelong at the ragged chef, who shrugged unapologetically, jaw jutted out with mulish stubbornness.

"I'm not taking my eye off of him again." Thatch proclaimed seriously. He moved back into Ace's personal space like a large, overeager puppy, making the fire-user tense. "Marco's with Oyaji discussing the Allied Captains and Marine movements." Thatch informed him cheerfully. "He's got a lot of catching up to do since he's been with you most of the time."

The chef did not appear to see Ace twitch.

"They asked not to be disturbed but Bay went to go get him anyway." Thatch grinned but there was an odd glint in his eyes. "She ordered you to stay in bed though. We're supposed to keep you there so no trying to escape."

He wagged his finger exaggeratedly but Ace did not find the chef's antics to be amusing. He tapped his pen on his notebook with nervous energy, feeling less like he was in the company of friends and more like he was imprisoned with a group of cloaked figures he could not identify. They could prove to be allies, or they could stab him in the back when he least expected it. Because without Marco to answer whether this was reality, the fire-user had no way to know if he was still asleep.

 _I'll just have to ride it out until Marco comes,_  Ace thought.  _It shouldn't be that long. If anyone can drag Marco out of a meeting with Oyaji, it's Bay._

He pictured the determined doctor pulling the infamous Phoenix down the hall by his ear and a smile flitted across his face. It was snuffed out as he accidentally met blue eyes, and Haruta tore his gaze away, crossing his arms and huffing. Ace's instincts told him to ignore the short Commander's presence completely and evade the misery that would come if he did not, but Izo had other ideas.

"Something you would like to say, Haruta?" the okama asked mildly.

The blue-eyed Commander pushed away from the doorframe. For a moment Ace thought he was going to leave, but instead he stalked up to the fire-user's bed. He leaned forward and grabbed Ace's wrist, fingers wrapped over the bandages cover the wounds caused by Pitch. The Summer Spirit did not try to free himself, instead going completely still. He was fine. It didn't hurt. There was no reason to wrench his arm away. That would only make Haruta mad.

The short Commander stared at the pristine white cloths covering the fire-user's injuries for a tense pause. Then his gaze flitted up to meet Ace's.

"You need to stop this." Haruta stated.

Ace blinked and stared at him uncomprehendingly.

Haruta's teeth clenched audibly. "You need to stop  _this_." He gestured vaguely at Ace's bandaged body. "You keep falling backwards and getting hurt and relapsing and— and  _terrifying_  us. When you collapsed during the meeting we thought you  _died,_  Ace!"

The Twelfth Division Commander's voice raised in volume and he made a low, angry sound. Ace did not have time to apologize before Haruta continued his rant.

"Why do you keep doing this, Ace?" he snapped, giving the fire-user's wrist a small shake. "Is it for attention? Do you think we aren't trying hard enough? Huh? Aren't you scaring us enough already?"

Hurt returned like daggers sinking into Ace's skin. He avoided the Twelfth Division Commander's glare, staring at his notebook as discomfort trickled through him, sinking into his bones like a poison. Before Ace had grown tired of his 'babysitters' and the disastrous encounter with the Marines, Marco had claimed Haruta was coming to apologize and talk to Ace when Pitch had attacked. The Phoenix said that the short Commander was not truly angry at the fire-user. He was angry at other things and had taken it out on Ace, and wished to make amends. What he had seen and the implications had scared Haruta away but he did not loathe Ace, Marco had vouched.

Nonetheless, here Haruta was, despising the fire-user once more and looking down on him like the Phoenix's words had all been a lie.

 _Marco would not lie to me_ , Ace thought firmly.  _Perhaps he was mistaken, or Haruta just wanted him off his back._  He felt a flare of disgust and remorse for thinking such an awful thing about the short Commander.  _I must have done something to make him angry again. Or Haruta decided I shouldn't be coddled even though I'm 'fragile'. It's his choice. It's fine._

Ace resolved to be unaffected by Haruta's obvious disdain, but could not maintain his apathy when Izo and Thatch did not so much as glance at the short Commander for his harsh words. The fire-user was shocked that the okama in particular did not look ready to smack Haruta, or even shoot him a warning glower.

 _They're probably tired of defending me,_  Ace thought reasonably.

He glumly accepted the expected bolt of self-loathing that accompanied his reasoning, hating himself for being so weak and relying on others to argue for him. Ace supposed he could sneer back at Haruta and demand to know what his problem was but could not find it in his heart to do such a thing. Despite everything, the short Commander was still one of his former crewmates and— dare he say it— brothers. If Haruta got vindicated from using the fire-user as an outlet for his negative emotions, that was okay.

" _I'm sorry."_  Ace wrote. By now he should probably just have a page with the apology written on it in huge letters. He would save ink that way.

Haruta seemed to know what it said with barely a glance at the paper. "Apology not accepted." He said flatly. "Apology  _never_  accepted. I'm done. I'm done caring. I'm sick of hoping the brother I lost is going to come back. Instead you keep being the  _problem child_. Do you  _like_  throwing fits in front of us? Did you think it was  _funny_  to faint during the meeting? You must. Otherwise you're not trying damn hard enough to get better. Just grow up and  _get over it_ , Ace."

Ace couldn't look at him. He could not meet those furious blue eyes. His discomfort and confusion had become full-on sadness once more, much to his distant horror.

 _Is that what Haruta really wanted to say to me when he was coming with Marco?_   _Or did he see what happened at the meeting and decide I'm not worth it anymore? I'm sorry_.  _I tried to stay awake. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't mean to collapse in front of…_

" _When you collapsed during the meeting we thought you died, Ace!"_

"— _during the meeting we thought you died, Ace!"_

" _ **We**_ _."_

_Haruta wasn't at the meeting._

Ace went cold. His brain scrambled for an excuse to call the realization a foolish leap in reasoning. Instead it replayed Haruta's statement over and over. The short Commander most definitely had not been at the Commander's meeting. He had been caught up in navigation. He had not snuck in while someone talked because Ace would have noticed the Commander that was upset with him coming in. Why would he talk like he witnessed the fire-user's panic attack if he had not been present for it?

Surely the nightmare would not make such an obvious mistake. Surely it would use his memories against him and ensure that the fakes in his dreams followed the actions of the real people. Perhaps Haruta had entered the room while Ace had been having his anxietyattack. That could be how he witnessed the fire-user blacking out. This could still be real then. The real Haruta could be yelling at and hating him. Except…

_Marco would not lie to me about Haruta wanting to apologize._

The thought was enough to brush away Ace's reservations. He yanked his arm from Not-Haruta's grasp, standing up and backing away from the three Commanders. Not-Haruta still looked furious. Not-Thatch looked hurt and confused. Not-Izo was stoic and calm.

The fire-user did not believe any of it.

_Find Marco. I have to find Marco to be sure._

He moved towards the door only to find his path blocked by Not-Thatch.

"Hey now, we said no escaping." The chef said with his usual friendly smile. "Bay will have our heads."

" _I need to find Marco."_  Ace wrote. The words came out shaky thanks to his trembling hand.

Not-Thatch shook his head firmly. "Bay said you can't leave. So you're  _not_  leaving."

Hands locked around Ace's forearms. He froze.

_Don't fight._

He allowed Not-Izo to guide him back to the bed but refused to lay down, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his feet on the floor. The okama, chef, and short Commander all exchanged a look. Then Not-Izo's grasp tightened and he shoved Ace down. The broken part of the fire-user that always lingered under the surface froze in terror, but Ace's body relaxed.

 _It's a nightmare_ , he confirmed, relieved.  _They aren't real._   _I should fight them._

He didn't.

Ace stared placidly at the ceiling as Not-Haruta cuffed him— Seastone. Always seastone. Didn't they know it did not work on him?— and let himself sink into numbness. He had to disassociate as much as possible in order to avoid associating the fakes with the real people.

 _Izo would not harm me. Thatch would not harm me. Haruta would not—… Haruta wanted to forgive me._   _I can't let this set me back again. I can't. I have to stay strong._

Thankfully the manacles were prevented from biting into Ace's flesh by the bandages around his wrists. The Summer Spirit thanked Pitch for that, realized what he had done, and aborted that train of thought before he could wallow in self-hatred and dismay. Not-Thatch wandered over to Bay's medical supplies and opened the cabinet, taking out a series of vials. He also retrieved a syringe, sticking it into a random vial and sucking the liquid into it.

"You're going to keep being a troublemaker and try to escape. I can tell. Better keep you sedated until Bay shows up, right?" Not-Thatch flicked at the injector curiously. "This might be the right one. Guess we'll have to try it and see."

The chef grabbed Ace's head, pushing it back and exposing his throat. The fire-user did not try to resist. He stared at the ceiling without really seeing it and thought about the real Thatch. The Fourth Division Commander was his friend— maybe his first friend on the Moby Dick. He always believed Ace deserved to be one of Whitebeard's children. He was kind and funny and patient, and would only target his brothers with pranks. He was not malicious or cruel. He would never do something like this.

 _Remember_ , Ace ordered himself.

"Sorry, kid." Not-Thatch said with a smile. "Doctor's orders."

The needle expunged its contents into Ace's neck, and jagged ice flowed into his veins. The fire-user closed his eyes and thought of his family and friends, his newest chant repeating in his mind.

_Remember. Endure. Remember. Endure. Remember. Endure._

ROTGOPROTGOP

Marco observed helplessly as Ace collapsed in Izo's arms, flame-colored eyes sliding closed with a terrifying finality. He saw the other Commanders lurch through the instinctive reaction to chuckle at the kid's 'narcolepsy', only for them to recall the real reason for Ace's predicament. Rakuyo and Thatch leapt to their feet with alarmed cries. The remaining Commanders shouted to one another, voicing questions and demanding to know if Ace was all right. The blond pirate ignored them all, observing the scene with a bitter helplessness.

_We lost him again._

Izo's fingers fumbled as he pressed them against Ace's throat. "He has a pulse." The okama did not become relieved by the news. He looked between Marco and Whitebeard, anger and fear burning in his eyes. "How long was he awake?"

The Phoenix did some mental calculations. "Nine days."

For a normal human that was shocking. For the old Ace that would be manageable. For the kid now it was nearly inconceivable. In hindsight, Marco was stunned Ace had not passed out sooner.

_He always was too stubborn for his own good._

"Oh, Oda…" Thatch breathed, running his fingers through his hair and messing it up.

He knelt and picked up Ace's fallen notebook and flipped through the pages in search of the kid's final, desperate message. Marco wondered what could be so important that Ace had forced himself to write through a panic attack but left it to the chef to find out. He pushed through the shocked Commanders and swept Ace up into his arms. The kid's head lolled limply against his shoulder and the Phoenix shuffled him awkwardly to keep him in a semi-comfortable position. Izo moved to help but the blond pirate stepped back.

"I have him, yoi. Thatch, with me. We'll bring him to Bay."

The pale chef nodded and hurried to open the door. The other Commanders made to follow the Phoenix out but Izo blocked their path.

"You'll only get in the way." The okama said firmly.

"What? You can't just—How can you be so calm about this?" Rakuyo exploded. "Ace just fell unconscious!"

"This is not the first time it has happened, nor will it be the last." Whitebeard said, interrupting whatever Izo had been going to say. The Yonko's yellow eyes met Marco's blue. "I will explain further. Get Ace to Bay. If she is not there, have Izo search for her."

Marco nodded shortly and went out the door with Thatch and Izo at his sides.

Concerned pirates went to ask what had happened as they passed, but one look at the Sixteenth Division Commander's murderous expression sent them scurrying away, leaving the way clear. Bay was not in the infirmary when they got there. The nurse that wanted to handcuff Ace— Sage— was. Marco took one look at her and turned to Izo, jerking his head. The okama nodded briefly and strode out the door to search for the doctor.

Sage made as if to approach but turned on her heel and withdrew when both the Phoenix and Thatch pinned her with warning stares. Marco felt a little guilty for his reaction but he could not forget the nurse's reaction to Ace and her 'solution' to 'keep him from harming himself again'. The memory made his blood boil and he resolved to take care of it later when he did not have other things to worry about. The Phoenix acknowledged that he needed to forgive, possibly explain, and forget. For now though, Ace needed him.

Marco gently lay Ace down in the bed. The fire-user was already trembling, expression strained with misery and pain. The Phoenix did his best not to wonder what the kid was experiencing right now, instead shifting the sheet and pulling over his shivering frame. Bay stormed into the infirmary a minute later, looking displeased. Izo trailed behind her, eyes darting around the room. The First Division Commander briefly wondered if he was searching the shadows.

"Sage, someone tripped on some rigging on deck. Can you go check them over for me?" Bay asked.

The nurse frowned suspiciously but obeyed her superior, retreating with a medical bag in tow. The doctor immediately went to Ace and began checking his vitals.

"What happened?"

"He fell asleep again." Marco informed her.

"I noticed." She said harshly as she checked Ace's breathing and pulse. "I mean what happened to  _make_  him fall asleep?"

Marco did not take offense to her snappish reply. He understood the doctor was upset that the kid was lost to them and trapped in nightmares again.

_Who knows what Pitch could be doing to him right now._

"He had a panic attack and fainted." The Phoenix said. "Something triggered him and he hyperventilated."

"I think I know what it was." Thatch said abruptly. He held the notebook in a vice-like grip, fingers white. The chef's eyes were round and he appeared greatly disturbed. "Listen to this:  _'The sand is an instant-kill for anyone other than me and—'_ " He squinted. "I can't quite make out the name. It might begin with a J? Dammit.  _'If it gets into your bloodstream it will turn you into a Fearling instantly. There is no cure. You cannot stop it. It may be possible to prevent a transformation if you can remove the infected body part but only if you are quick enough.'_  That's all he wrote." Thatch looked to the doctor and Phoenix, blatantly nervous. "The  _sand_  is what turns people into Fearlings? I thought it just caused bad dreams!"

"If it doesn't get in you, maybe that is all it does, yoi." Marco mused darkly. "But once it's inside you…"

The gravity of Ace's warning struck him like a blow and dread wrapped its claws around his throat. The black sand was an instant kill. The smallest cut could prove to be deadly. That had some  _very_  disturbing implications.

_A single slice will be all it takes to make my brothers Pitch's slaves._

Thatch inhaled sharply, skin blanching to a sickly white. "I had that stuff on me. Pitch used it to knock me out, didn't he?"

The chef was almost hysterical, trembling fearfully as he realized how close he had been to becoming the Spirit of Fear's slave. Thatch did not talk about what he had experienced during his sand-induced sleep, but Marco had seen the way he would reach up to absently rub his back, or sit so he was against a wall with no one behind him.

The Phoenix did not wish to think too deeply about Teach's betrayal and Thatch's near-miss with death. Neither did the Fourth Division Commander, apparently, for he studied the blurred word in Ace's message with a deliberate intensity.

"It must be a name." he muttered to himself. "Yup. Gotta be. J. J… A? Jaaaa…"

Marco tuned out his murmuring, looking to Bay. The doctor backed away from the sleeping Ace, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear with a disgruntled air.

"Other than the fact that he's sleeping, Ace is fine. His heartrate and blood pressure are a little high, and his breathing is slightly quick, but other than that he's perfectly  _fine_." She spat the word like it was a curse.

"Just like normal then." Marco stated, glad to hear that no new complications had arisen. He had been worried after what Pitch had done to Ace in the waking world. What if the Nightmare King found a new way to torment the kid in dreams that would affect his actual body?

Thatch's excited exclamation drew the Phoenix away from his darkening thoughts. The chef bounced on his heels, grinning from ear to ear.

"Jack!" Thatch proclaimed happily. "He wrote that 'Jack' can't be turned into a Fearling as well!" The chef frowned, deflating a little. "Who's Jack?"

Marco hesitated before answering. "Jack Frost."

Thatch brightened. "You know him? Great!" The chef stilled and comprehension dawned on his face. "Wait. Is it Jack?  _That_  Jack? Ace's  _'Spirit of Winter' Jack_? The one who supposedly caused that storm when we first recruited him?!"

"Yes, yoi." The Phoenix said simply.

Thatch imitated a fish, mouth opening an closing rapidly. "But— But—"

"You've met Jack." Izo guessed, giving Marco a knowing look. "That's why you're so confident about this."

"But—But—" Thatch spluttered.

Bay sighed and rolled her eyes at the chef's bewilderment.

"He was at Marineford." Marco revealed. "He was the one who caused the blizzard that covered our escape."

Bay flashed a light in the gaping Thatch's eyes but he shook her away, not seeing her amused look.

" _How?!_ " Thatch gasped, regaining his ability to form words at last. "No one else saw him! They would have mentioned it. What, is 'Jack' invisible or something? How does  _that_  work?"

"Pitch Black has a similar ability." Izo said.

Thatch's jaw clicked shut. "Oh.  _Oh_. I… I need to process this a bit."

He sat down heavily in a chair beside Ace's bed. The okama settled in his own seat more gracefully, placing his hands in his lap as he prepared for a long wait. Marco followed suit and the three Commanders sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts. A stray idea pestered the Phoenix like an itch he could not scratch, poking at him insistently before darting out of reach.

The blond pirate studied Ace's pale, tense features and his hands clenched. Marco hated sitting around and helplessly waiting for the kid to wake again— if he even did this time— but there was little else he could do. He could not force the sand or Pitch to leave Ace alone, and the Nightmare King always fled too quickly for the Phoenix to try to get any answers out of him.

The only consolation Marco had was that it could have been much worse. If Ace's claim were true— and why would he lie?— he and Jack were the only ones who would not turn into Fearlings upon infection with the black sand. That just gave the First Division Commander more questions about the fire and ice-wielders, adding to his growing list of mysteries with no answers.

Like how Ace had caused it to  _rain fire_. The kid's display of power had both heartened and terrified Marco. It was heartening because Ace had fought to protect the Phoenix. Terrifying because the kid had never been capable of such a feat before. There was no longer any doubt in Marco's mind that the fire-user's abilities did not come from a Devil Fruit anymore. Just like Pitch and probably Jack's came from a different, unknown source.

Marco stiffened, the pieces mostly coming together like a puzzle with missing parts.

Pitch's powers did not come from a Devil Fruit.

Jack's powers did not come from a Devil Fruit.

Ace's powers did not come from a Devil Fruit.

Pitch sometimes could not be seen.

Jack's sometimes could not be seen.

Ace sometimes could not be seen.

Pitch was the 'Spirit of Fear'. He controlled darkness.

Jack was the 'Spirit of Winter'. He controlled ice.

Could Ace be a 'Spirit'— whatever that really was— as well? Some type of fire-wielding one, maybe?

Could it be that all of their abilities— Ace's fire, Jack's ice, and Pitch's darkness— came from the same source? Could 'Spirits' be a particular type of person granted special powers by said source? How? From what? Or who?

So what did that make Ace? He controlled fire. And created storms. And maybe wind? A gale had certainly sprung to life when the Marine ship had been burning but that could have been because of the shifting pressure in the air instead of the kid's influence.

Marco was not sure. Another thought crept up to worry him and he physically tensed, causing Thatch to shoot him a look. The Phoenix wordlessly waved away the chef's concern even as his own grew. Ace was powerful. Very powerful. That power was not from his former Devil Fruit unless there was an unknown phenomenon that Marco was unaware of.

That meant the kid's power had come from something else, or maybe  _someone_  else. If someone gave Ace that power, it was for a reason. The kid had been believed dead. He had been missing for years. Marco was beginning to suspect he had not been with Pitch for those full three years. If the Nightmare King had been active all that time, why were they only noticing the disappearances he caused now?

Ace was keeping secrets. He flinched whenever someone mentioned him rejoining the crew. He looked guilty when others discussed the future. The fire-wielder's powers came from somewhere unknown. Could Ace have been rescued by an enigmatic association, one that granted him his strange and overwhelming abilities? Was that where he had been when he was gone? Was there a group with similar powers— called 'Spirits'— that the kid had been asked— or coerced— into joining? Was that why Ace always looked so distraught when talking about returning to the ranks of the Whitebeard Pirates, because he wouldn't be able to?

The thought of his brother 'dying' only to be 'saved' and forced into some secret group against his will made Marco's stomach churn. Power like Ace wielded always came with a price. What if that price was the kid's past— and maybe his freedom? There were too many unknown variables. For all the Phoenix knew, he may simply be being paranoid. But the fragmented pieces of knowledge he had were coming together in a way that made an awful lot of sense.

Ace had 'died'. He had been gone for three years and had been unable or unwilling to return to his family. He had returned with strange powers. He looked upset whenever people mentioned the future. He had not talked about rejoining the Whitebeard Pirates once.

Could that be because he was bound to leave them for good, to perhaps work for the people who saved his life and granted him his new powers?

Marco did not know. He did not particularly care to know just yet.

All the Phoenix could comprehend was that, no matter what happened, he might just lose his little brother again. For good.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Trafalgar D. Water Law was the Surgeon of Death. He was feared by many Marines, dreaded by the general populace and his fellow pirates, and was known to be as cruel and ruthless as they came. He had the guts to go into a war to save a potential future ally and sought to bring down the Yonko, one of the strongest and more terrifying powers in the world. He was mysterious, stoic, levelheaded, and calm.

He also walked around with a small, brightly-colored Fairy on his hat.

If anyone mentioned said passenger to the surgeon, Law would likely amputate their limbs and leave them as a useless pile of gore. The Heart Pirate did not allow himself to wonder why he indulged Baby Tooth and let her keep her perch. Instead he went about his day as he usually would, only diverting from his routine when Baby Tooth said something or leaned over the brim of his hat to smile at him.

Law knew she likely only stayed with him because his hat was a soft place to sit but found himself apprec— authorizing her presence all the same. Baby Tooth was small and seemed to grow tired easily, so his cap was as good a place to be as any. If she went elsewhere that idiot Straw Hat would irritate or accidentally fling her. Luffy was certainly acting stupid enough not to notice his surroundings at the moment.

Law sat comfortably in a chair on the Thousand Sunny's deck, reading a book and occasionally rolling his eyes as the Straw Hat Captain, the sniper, and the doctor made fools of themselves. Luffy was currently attempting to hit Usopp's projectiles back at him and the surgeon may call it training if not for the fact that the projectiles consisted of things like paint-filled balloons. The paint must be washable because the shipwright was not throwing a fit about the splatters covering the ship, though Nami had growled a warning when one had landed near her trees.

If a single drop of paint got on Law, there would be hell to pay. His retaliation would not involve ink-filled balloons that was for sure. Severed limbs attached to odd objects was more likely. The surgeon smirked to himself as he flipped a page in his book. Someone settled against the railing beside him and he glanced over to see their latest ally leaning against the barrier.

Jack waved as a greeting but did not attempt to drag Law into a conversation like others would, content to sit back and watch the Straw Hats cause each other grief. The surgeon was surprised he was not joining them, seeing as how the Winter Spirit was slowly gaining a reputation for being a prankster. He had gotten Sabo with sneak attacks consisting of snowballs five times already, innocently proclaiming that the Logia needed to learn how to dodge when confronted.

The ice-wielder tended to target the Revolutionaries, Luffy, Sanji, and Usopp the most, sticking clear of those who likely would not take a joke well for the time being. Law appreciated and applauded his caution. He had a feeling it would not last. Still, it was funny to see the sniper in particular shriek whenever Jack snuck up on him and whispered "Boo!" in his ear. The last time Usopp had jumped close to ten feet into the air.

Jack gave a bark of laughter as Luffy nailed Usopp in the face with a deflected balloon, turning the sniper a bright neon green. The Winter Spirit noted that he had gained Law's attention and chuckled again.

"Aren't they adorable?" He said with obvious amusement in his voice.

It was obvious the Winter Spirit found the Straw Hats' antics to be amusing, but his humorous reaction was accompanied by a gentle softness that peaked Law's curiosity. It was almost like the ice-user was basking in the presence of such lightheartedness and fun, a near-permanent smile on his lips that would grow and rarely falter. And yet he was not cheerful to the point of annoyance, like he was used to keeping his happiness to himself or was trying to distance himself from his own jubilation. It was very strange in the surgeon's opinion.

Jack certainly was an enigma, yet Law could not bring himself to mistrust him. The ice-user's friendly aura was too bright for that. He practically exuded playfulness and joy like he was made of them. Not as irritatingly as the overbearing Luffy, but still noticeable. The Winter Spirit had other small quirks that made Law curious about his past but he was not one to push for answers. Still, he had to wonder why Jack always looked so surprised when people addressed him before appearing as if he had just received the greatest gift in the world.

Law also had questions about Jack's abilities and where they came from. At first glance, his powers seemed to originate from a type of frost or snowstorm fruit. However, the surgeon was beginning to doubt that was true. When Luffy had nearly fallen overboard  _again_  just that morning, Jack had been the first person to lunge for the rubber idiot and pull him back to safety.

Sabo had been the second but the Logia was Luffy's brother and a fellow idiot in the surgeon's opinion. The Revolutionary may be smart when compared to the rubber pirate but he could still be as reckless and obtuse as the rest of his family. The blond likely still forgot that he had a Devil Fruit and could not swim either, or his instincts to save his little brother were ingrained too deeply into his being for him to resist diving after the Straw Hat Captain.

Jack's instinctive rescue and unbothered mood when facing a plunge in the sea could be because he had gotten his powers recently. Or maybe he, like Sabo, found himself discarding logic to save Luffy from his own stupidity. Now that Law thought about it, Jack did look wary around water from time to time, most often when one of the Devil Fruit users went near the ocean.

 _Maybe he knew someone who drowned_ , Law thought.

Nami's familiar shout redirected his attention and he turned around lazily, raising an eyebrow as the navigator whacked her captain and the sniper on the heads. Law mused about what bout of immaturity had caused the fiery orange-haired woman to finally deck the two again, then noticed the broken branch on one of the tangerine trees Nami coveted. The surgeon felt a sliver of sympathy for the two unlucky idiots as they were throttled by the enraged navigator.

Jack witnessed the carnage and whistled lowly. "Note to self: Don't hurt the trees." He muttered, then shot Law a cheeky grin.

The surgeon found himself responding with a smirk of his own but was saved from thinking about that by Baby Tooth's squeak-like chattering. Jack shifted away from the spot he was leaning against and looked up at the Fairy.

"No, I'm not going to join them. I don't really feel like it right now."

Baby Tooth chirped again and Law heard the concern in her voice.

Jack's smile faltered a little. "Nah, I'm good. Really."

The Fairy growled, voice seeping discontent. She leaned over and looked upside down at Law, squeaking in annoyance.

Jack gave an indignant squawk. "I am not being an idiot!"

Law took a gamble and gave him a smug look. "Yes you are."

"Quiet, you!" the Winter Spirit huffed. "You don't even know what we're talking about."

"I don't need to." The surgeon retorted. "I already know you're an idiot."

Jack immaturely stuck his tongue out at Law but even then his eyes glimmered with that same, elated wonder.

Baby Tooth gave an alarmed cry.

A low rushing sound was Law's only other warning before Luffy's misfired attack hit him in the stomach. His hat and Baby Tooth flew from his head as he was flung backwards. The surgeon barely had time to register that he had been thrown off the ship. Then he struck the water and the energy was ripped from his limbs like they had been poisoned. Weakness gripped him, preventing the slightest movements, and the surgeon descended into the watery abyss like a stone.

 _I'm going to kill him_ , Law thought faintly as he sank.

Law could not move, his Devil Fruit cursing his body to remain immobile as he plunged helplessly into the depths. His arms and legs felt like they wrapped in chains and made of lead, pulling him slowly downward into the unforgiving water. He had not reached the bottom yet, which only decreased his chances for survival because the deeper he plummeted, the longer it would take to reach the surface once more.

The surgeon thought about all of that clinically, detachedly, as if he were not the one drowning right now. His precious pocket of air remained firmly locked inside his lungs in an attempt to delay the inevitable just a short while longer. His head already felt like it was going to explode, black spots dancing in front of his eyes as his body begged for oxygen.

Law began to feel the pressure of the water, the liquid pushing down on his head and chest and making it that much harder to stay conscious. He briefly wondered if the weight really was that bad or if his body was just reacting negatively to his stubborn refusal to let go of the little bit of air he had.

The pain in the Heart Pirate's lungs and head grew stronger and he could no longer hold his breath. Bubbles burst from his lips and cold water rushed eagerly into his mouth to replace the air, as painful as chips of ice. Law's body jerked as it tried to reject the liquid filling his lungs but his Devil Fruit kept him from going into full, agonized spasms. The blackness grew more pronounced, less and less light entering his retinas.

 _What a pitiful way to go out_ , he mused faintly, yet even his thoughts drifted away.

It was so dark and cold. Law was more tired than scared. He swore the blackness churned and danced, swaying and moving like it was alive…

Arms wrapped around him, as cold as death, and Law briefly wonders if it had come to sweep him away to the afterlife. Then he was moving, or rising, or flying, or maybe falling further, shooting towards the distant light he could barely see.

No, not towards. Away. He had to be sinking into the shadows, away from the light, because the glow was growing fainter. The blackness steadily closed around him, encasing him in its icy embrace and making him numb. The light faded completely, leaving an empty darkness behind, but by then the surgeon was too detached from his mind and body to feel confusion or fear.

The world drifted gently away, and Law did not feel anything at all.


	24. Drown

Jack was halfway over the railing by the time Law vanished into the depths of the sea. The Winter Spirit followed the surgeon below the waves before his mind could catch up to his body's actions, diving into the ocean with a splash. The water closed over Jack's head and everything grew muffled and distant, like he had been dropped into another realm. It was as if the surface of the ocean was a wall between worlds, barely a wisp of sunlight lightening the limited, claustrophobic view under the sea.

The ocean pressed down on Jack, nipping at his body and clothes with its suffocating, threatening embrace and instinctive fear nearly paralyzed him. It vanished when he spotted Law's still form slowly sinking towards the bottom of the ocean, which could not be seen yet. The Winter Spirit dove through the water towards the Heart Pirate with less speed than he wanted but faring much better than the grey-eyed man.

Jack was not the best swimmer, nor was he the worst. He had learned to swim long before becoming a Guardian. Back then it had mostly been a self-imposed challenge and a way to pass the time, even though he had been unsettled around deep water.

It was only later that he learned why being submerged unnerved him but even after regaining his memories, Jack still swam. Maybe he did not fear the water as much as he probably should, or maybe he subconsciously wished to keep Pitch from possibly using such an exploitable weakness, but the Winter Spirit did not avoid pools of water, instead embracing them and enjoying them whenever he had the opportunity. Besides, it was fun to freeze the waves.

It was a good thing he maintained his swimming abilities, too. Back in the first part of their journey, Ace had relied on Jack to save him every time he took a dip in the sea. The fire-user's near-drownings had been almost daily occurrences back then thanks to the teen's inability to remember he could no longer swim. He would trip over some rigging and take a plunge, leap over the side of the boat to get something like an idiot, and be such a klutzy, dumb little brother overall that the Winter Spirit wondered if he and Luffy actually were related by blood. As a result, the Guardian had eventually reacted with more exasperation and amusement than fear whenever Ace had fallen into the ocean outside of battle.

This was not a funny accidental tumble into the sea, complete with an easy retrieval. Law had been caught off guard. He had been thrown overboard by a friend. And the ocean here was very, very deep. And dark. Jack could barely see the surgeon. His clothes were black in the water, making the Heart Pirate blend into the shadowy depths surrounding him. If not for his Devil Fruit, the Winter Spirit may believe his long coat was helping to drag Law down. He knew that was not the case, and even without additional hindrances the surgeon would still be helpless. Jack could not imagine what it would be like to be paralyzed as one powerlessly drowned. He did not want to either.

Jack shoved furiously at the water, using his hands and legs to propel himself forward— or downward, in this case. He was getting closer. He could see Law's strained, pale features. The surgeon was holding his breath as best he could, eyes widening with slight pain as his lungs begged for air. The Guardian was still fine, either because of practice or his nature as a Spirit, and he remained clear-headed for the moment. It helped that the water was warm, to Jack at least due to his lower body temperature. He doubted it felt the same to the human.

Jack recoiled as Law jerked abruptly, bubbles trailing from his mouth as he lost his hold on his breath. He watched in horror as the surgeon twitched and spasmed, and it slowly dawned on the Winter Spirit that he was  _watching the man drown_. The Guardian shoved against the water furiously and made it to Law's side in time for the pirate's body to go lax.

The Guardian could not tell if Law was conscious or not. The surgeon's limpness could be a result of his Devil Fruit or being knocked out. Jack wrapped his arms around the surgeon's chest and struggled upwards, forced to rely on his feet to propel himself through the water. He lamented on not bringing his staff but he had dropped it on the deck with the hope that discarding his usual conduit would prevent him from freezing the water. Ocean water may be cold but ice water was worse.

Jack mentally prayed that he was not making things worse simply by carrying Law to the surface. He knew he was cold to the touch but hopefully he could keep that iciness to a minimum. He just had to get the surgeon out. The Winter Spirit looked upward, just able to spot a small speck of sunlight through the surface of the waves. He headed towards it and began to feel a strain in his lungs.

_Just a little further._

He had to remain calm. If he panicked, he would likely turn the water to ice, even without his staff.

The tension in his chest grew more pronounced and blackness began to dance in Jack's vision. His body twitched but he kept his mouth clamped closed, even as an uncomfortable pressure began to build in his head.

_Almost there. Just a little further. Almost—_

Something brushed his hand and Jack reflexively grabbed it. The rough, thin object in his grasp grew taught and he found himself being pulled upward. He burst above the surface and took in large breathes of fresh air, peering up to see worried pirates and Revolutionaries looking down at him. Law did not respond to the influx of oxygen, staying lifele— limp in Jack's arms.

"Pull them up!" Someone— Zoro?— shouted.

The Straw Hats rushed to obey, a few vanishing from the railing. The rope strained and Jack was hoisted onto the ship with Law in tow. The moment his feet landed on the wood, the Guardian lay the surgeon on the deck and backed away. Extra coldness would not help the Heart Pirate any at the moment.

Chopper was at Law's side in an instant with a speed that would make the Wind jealous. The doctor tipped the Heart Pirate's head to the side, allowing the water in his mouth to drain out. Then he checked the surgeon's breathing and quickly searched for a pulse. The slight widening of his eyes said it all and he began doing compressions, movements calm but also urgent.

An uneasy feeling settled in Jack's gut and it took him a moment to realize the reason why. Other than the obvious fact that the surgeon was laid out and unconscious on the deck, the ship was absolutely silent except for the wind and Chopper's frantic attempt to resuscitate Law. He had apparently summoned Sanji to his side to help though the Guardian could not see what the cook was doing. The other Straw Hats, the two Revolutionaries, and Baby Tooth all observed mutely as the doctor struggled to help their ally.

The Winter Spirit's gaze zeroed in on Law's face, heart clenching when he saw how pale the surgeon was. His hair was drenched and stuck to his forehead, the shadows under his eyes were worryingly pronounced, but his expression was eerily peaceful. There was no other way to say it. The Heart Pirate looked… looked...

_He might be dead. He might have_ _**drowned** _ _._

The Guardian sat down heavily on the deck, hand pressed to his mouth. Sabo was at his side in an instant, kneeling in front of Jack and meeting his wide blue eyes.

"He's going to be fine." The Revolutionary whispered lowly. "Jack, he's going to be okay."

The Winter Spirit could not form words, his thoughts melding together into a jumbled mess. If someone had fallen into less harmful water during a funny trip, Jack would be fine. If they had been thrown into the sea by an enemy— like Pitch— he would be fine, albeit righteously enraged.

But Law had drowned because of a stupid game, the day going from fun to horrifying in an instant.  _They had just been ice skating. They had not known the ice was so thin._ He had been flung into the ocean because of a dumb accident.  _Jack thought he had been safe. His sister was out of danger, so he almost forgot about himself and the fact that he was still on the cracking ice._  He may have just watched him drown. The Guardian may have just watched him die.  _Just like his sister saw him die._  He may have just lost another believer right before his eyes, just like Ace—

Law's body jerked violently and he vomited up a mouthful of water, coughing painfully. Sanji turned the surgeon onto his side as he hacked up more liquid and took in raspy gulps of air.

"Careful." Chopper soothed.

He glanced up, relaxing slightly as Brook ran over with blankets and Law's fallen hat. Jack had not even seen the skeleton leave. Law sat up and hacked up another spurt of water, groaning painfully. Unintentionally or not, he leaned against Sanji, head resting on the cook's shoulder. The blond pirate did not complain or comment, instead accepting a blanket and wrapping it around the surgeon.

"Help him to the infirmary." Chopper ordered, tone forbidding any argument. "We need to check his lungs for water." He walked briskly for the door but paused by Jack, guilt flashing through his expression. "Are you all right?" he asked urgently. "Did you swallow any water? Any trouble breathing? Are—?"

"I'm fine. Ice powers." Jack said hurriedly. "Help Law."

The doctor paused before nodding firmly and led the way below deck with Sanji helping Law behind him. The surgeon mostly walked under his own power, but the cook kept a hand on his arm to guide him. It was telling when the stoic Heart Pirate did not protest.

The terrible silence returned. It was temporarily broken when Zoro offered Jack his staff.

"Here." He said shortly. "You dropped this."

The Guardian accepted his weapon back, gripping it a little tighter than necessary. "Thank you."

Quiet. It was still quiet. The Straw Hats should not be quiet. It was wrong.

Jack let his eyes drift over them, taking in their varied expressions. Most were pale, a few stoically unflappable, but it was the Captain's face that caught the Guardian's attention. Luffy's visage was twisted, torn between a smile and a horrified expression. He looked as if he instinctively wanted to laugh the situation off— likely having knocked crewmates into the water before— only to understand that this instance was nothing to joke about.

Something ugly curled in the Winter Spirit's chest.

"You…" Jack whispered. "You  _idiot_."

He did not mean to say the words out loud, but compared to the silence they had the volume of an explosion. The Straw Hat Pirate's expression momentarily crumpled before he was in Jack's face.

"I'm sorry!" Luffy babbled. "I didn't mean to hit him."

" _I'm_  not the one you have to apologize to." Jack said sternly, feeling like he had to lecture a child for the first time in years.

"I know." The Straw Hat Captain said. Then a grin crossed his face. "But Traffy is gonna be okay. Chopper saved him."

Jack could see the guilt and regret draining from the rubber man, with Luffy already moving on from the event. The trait that was normally admirable in the Guardian's eyes was suddenly intolerable, and the Winter Spirit's hand clenched so tightly around his staff he worried he might break it himself.

"You need to be more careful in the future." He said, forcing his voice to remain calm. "Law almost died."

"But he didn't." Luffy said pointedly, not replying to his first sentence. It was like he had not even heard it.

Frost crept along Jack's staff. Beside him, Sabo tensed and shot the Winter Spirit a worried look.

 _Does he not understand what he nearly did, or does he just not care?_  Jack thought angrily.  _Is he living without regrets or is he just ignoring things he doesn't like… like he did with me?_

The air grew noticeably colder. Jack took time to breathe, trying to tell himself that he was overreacting and Luffy was just being Luffy. But Law had nearly drowned. Luffy had nearly accidentally murdered his friend. And yet now that the danger had 'passed' he was already forgetting about it, even though the surgeon could  _still die_  due to the aftereffects of near-drowning.

The ugly feeling grew more pronounced.

 _I need space. I need space_ _ **now**_ _._  "Nami, which way is that Whitebeard island we're headed to?"

The navigator jumped, surprised to be addressed by the Winter Spirit. "Um. It's east. We'll be there in a few days."

Jack strode to the edge of the ship. "I'll go ahead to make sure Pitch hasn't been there."

"W-What?" Usopp stammered. "Why would you—?"

"That's a good idea." Koala interrupted, stepping between the Straw Hats and the Guardian. She handed Jack a small piece of paper. "This is Sabo's. Use it to find us if we aren't there on time or if something happens."

"Got it." Jack said, giving her a sloppy salute.

Baby Tooth fluttered over to him from her perch on the railing. She had apparently forsaken a comfier spot because her favorites had been in the ocean. Jack felt a little flattered, but the emotion was marred by the simmering anger.

"You coming with me?" he asked the Fairy, who nodded furiously. The Guardian glanced at Sabo. "Tell the others where I went. I'll see you in a few days."

The Revolutionary made to respond but his little brother spoke first.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?"

Jack exhaled slowly, not turning to look at Luffy. "Yes."

He could hear the confusion and slight hurt in the Straw Hat Captain's voice. "I don't know why."

It began to snow, the sky turning a murky grey.

"You never do." Jack said flatly.

He flew off with Baby Tooth fluttering behind him before they could ask him to explain.

ROTGOPROTGOP

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. And Ace was dying again.

The fire-user lay on the 'Moby Dick's' deck, bleeding out for the thousandth time since he had most recently fallen into nightmares. By now he was more used to the sticky feeling of blood on his skin than its absence, and he mentally congratulated and hated himself for falling into apathy once more.

Ace faced his impending doom with more impatience and tiredness than fear, just wanting to move on to the next dream already. This world had been awful. Everyone openly hated him, not bothering to try to trick him into thinking this was reality this loop. The first thing Marco had done upon Ace waking was punch him in the jaw and call him a selfish idiot. That was okay though because the fire-user knew the real Marco would never say such things. It was the others cruelty that could get under his skin.

In this dream, Haruta still despised him for being selfish and weak. Thatch coldly shunned him for not being able to defeat Blackbeard. Izo thought he was a disgusting creature that should leave and stop dragging the family down with him. Ace tried to believe that these sentiments were false, that the real Commanders did not think such things about him. But his resolve was faltering and his doubts were creeping back, slowly but surely. The fire-user despised himself for his lack of faith, yet he was unable to stop it any more than he could halt a tsunami.

He still had Jack, Marco, Bay, and Whitebeard to rely on, his belief in their true intentions and care for him as unbreakable as diamond. Four people sounded abysmal when compared to the dozens Ace had once trusted near-unconditionally. However, to the fire-user it was leaps and bounds over the unwavering faith in Jack and tremulous hope that maybe the Phoenix would not get sick of him.

Ace tried not to think about how Luffy and Sabo were not among those he knew for certain loved him and succeeded handily at his goal by focusing on his latest death. His attempts to 'fall asleep' in order to escape this nightmare had failed miserably, resulting in what could only be described as electric torture. Not-Bay claimed it was 'therapy' to make Ace 'heal' but the fire-user knew better. He felt a small glimmer of pride that he could tell the 'sessions' were bad and were not meant to help him but was as powerless to stop them as he was to preventing the sun from rising.

Unfortunately nothing they had done to him had been enough to knock him out, and it was only a couple hours ago— after 'months' of 'treatment'— that he had managed to break out of his bonds and attempt to run. Needless to say he was caught and ruthlessly punished. Ace could not identify what exactly had been done to him because his mind had mercifully checked out an hour into the latest beating. That was a good thing in his opinion. The less 'memories' of his 'friends' hurting him he had, the better off he would be when he finally woke.

They had left him to die eventually but the fire-user admitted to himself that he wished the damage had been  _more_ severe. He acknowledged that was a horrifying state of mind to have but slow 'deaths' sucked. All he could do was lay there in agony as he waited for the fake life to end like it always did. If Ace got hurt in a battle in reality and was dying, he had a feeling he would not even care. In fact, he might do something to himself to hurry his own death along.

Again, he refused to think about the implications of such things and blankly stared at the fuzzy blue sky. From what he could see of it, it really was pretty. He just wished it was real. When he regained consciousness, he should observe the sky for a bit, both day and night. He wanted to appreciate the real thing before he was inevitably dragged back into nightmares. If he even woke up again at all.

 _I_ _ **will**_ _wake up_ , Ace thought.  _I always have. I won't be trapped forever._

He just wished it would happen sooner. Or that he would just die in this nightmare already. Ace slowly maneuvered his right hand— complete with four broken fingers and a missing thumb— onto his chest, where one of the worst wounds lay. He was not certain how he had gotten the stab wound, but guessed it was from one of the swordsmen. The pirate had impaled him where Akainu had. The nightmares always seemed to like to stab him in that place. Did he have a target there or something?

Ace's attempt at giggling caused blood to dribble down his chin. Good. That meant he would move on soon. He should probably talk with someone about his disinterest when facing his own demise before it became a huge problem. Marco, Jack, and the others would be really upset if he actually died.

 _If I died for real I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore,_  Ace thought with that same, dark amusement. Darkness flickered at the edge of his vision and the fire-user smiled.  _Finally._

The blackness took the shapes of humanoid figures that blocked out the remnants of the blue sky. Ace may have paled if he had enough skin tone left to do so. The Fearlings surrounding him saw his dismay and gave their shrieking laughs. The Summer Spirit exhaled shakily and cursed the black sand and his own creeping fears. Suddenly the slow, boring death no longer seemed that bad.

Ace recoiled as the Fearlings clawed at his skin, grabbing and pulling at him like wolves fighting over fresh meat. They dug their grotesque nails into his wounds, slashing and ripping as they tore at their victim. The fire-user was yanked back and forth across the deck in a sadistic version of tug-of-war. The Fearlings allowing their kin to wrench Ace towards them, with the conceding parties letting their claws gouge red lines into his limbs. Then they would grab him firmly again and the process would repeat, until the Summer Spirit's exposed skin was covered with gashes.

Ace did not struggle, cry, or scream— not that he could anyway in this dream— instead allowing the Fearlings to play with him like a rag doll they were ripping apart. He sank further into detachment but did not fade away like he so desperately wished. Instead he stayed aware like he always did. The nightmares were getting to him again. That fact was undebatable. The world-weary tiredness was coming back and he was incapable of stopping it.

_I just want to wake up._

A Fearling emerged from the horde, nondescript yet recognizable, holding just enough unique traits for the fire-user to identify his latest tormenter and Ace immediately recoiled. The unmistakable form of Blackbeard leaned over him, grinning his gap-filled smile. Except the thing before Ace could not be the man at all.

The creature had Teach's mocking grin, unmistakable girth, and venomous aura, but other than that it would be a stretch to call him human. He held the black, shadow-like form of the Fearlings, keeping his general humanoid shape but discarding everything else. His teeth were sharp and jagged, protruding out of his mouth like a shark's. His eyes glowed soullessly, lacking pupils and irises just like the rest of his kind, and red liquid that could be blood or those disgusting cherry pies dripped from his maw. He looked like a demon and a black hole, sucking in the light around him just like he had done with his powers when he was human.

 _Like he_ _ **still**_ _has_ , Ace reminded himself.  _This is a nightmare. Teach isn't a Fearling. He's still out there, somewhere in the world..._

The thought did not comfort him the slightest bit. Even before being imprisoned by Pitch, Ace had tried not to think much about the traitor that had beaten and captured him. Teach had not killed the fire-user with his own hands but he was the one who put the circumstances that would lead to the Marineford War into motion. In Ace's mind, Blackbeard had as much of a part in his demise as Akainu. The fire-user despised Teach for what he had done and knew he would never stop hating the traitor… but even with his new powers he could not confidently claim he could beat him.

Ace did not know if he had always thought that or the black sand was talking, but the notion of facing Blackbeard again filled him with dread. The Fearling-Blackbeard caught onto his unease and gave a cackling, familiar laugh that sent shivers up the fire-user's spine. The creature that resembled Teach punched him in the gut, sending him flying into the mast. As Ace slid back to the deck he idly noted the streak of red he left in his wake.

_It won't be long now._

The Fearling floated towards him, the others in its wake like he—  _it_  was the one controlling them. Ace chided his mind for being ridiculous even as he mentally prepared for his rapidly approaching end. The Blackbeard-Fearling flicked its clawed hands and its kin lunged like a tidal wave, bearing down on the unmoving Summer Spirit. Their nails sank into his skin as Teach continued to laugh, his chuckles growing more and more inhuman until they morphed into distorted human screams.

The fire-user felt a burst of pure agony as he was torn apart by the creatures, and then he was in the cell. Ace took a moment to note that all of his appendages were still attached to his body before lifting his eyelids. Pitch leaned casually against the opposite cell wall, looking thoroughly impressed.

"Ouch. That  _had_  to hurt." He said in a tone that would be sympathetic coming from anyone else.

Ace dropped his gaze, cringing when he spotted the deep red cuts on his torso, legs, and feet. He blinked and the wounds vanished, leaving unmarred skin. Well, unmarred except for the black marks but to the fire-user those were the default now.

"The horrors your mind conjures up are truly inspiring." Pitch continued. "Even I would be hard-pressed to imagine such tortures. Though to be fair, I did live through that last one…"

His tone darkened but Ace could not find the energy to feel curious about his words. The fire-user continued to stare at his body, wounds appearing and disappearing with every blink. That would be fine if his body did not think he was injured and should be in pain for every transition, the 'wounds' making his nerves scream like clockwork every time they returned. The Summer Spirit pondered if the Nightmare King was doing something to him or his own brain was turning against him again. It would be just like his stupid, damaged mind to go on the fritz in order to make him believe he was injured when he was not. He should stop worrying about it. Ace already knew he was crazy by now.

"Still, I like the little addition you made." Pitch commented as if he were rating a drawing the Summer Spirit illustrated. "Who was that special Fearling? I noticed him turning up before in a human form. Was he an enemy of yours?"

Ace watched his wounds flash in and out of existence with a disturbed fascination. He tried not to think about how awful the rest of his body must look. He did not register that the Nightmare King had spoken to him until the Spirit cuffed him upside the head.

"Answer when I'm talking to you. You don't have to be rude."

"Sorry." Ace whispered on instinct.

Logic told him not to say anything further. It would not be wise to inform the Spirit of Fear about Blackbeard— another darkness-wielding maniac and one of the fire-user's greatest foes. Pitch would probably have a field day if he found someone else who could control blackness like him and inspired such fear in so many. However, the piece of Ace that always plotted out the worst case scenario for everything screamed that if he did not respond, Pitch would likely torture him for answers. The Summer Spirit's stomach nearly rebelled at the thought.

All the Nightmare King would have to do was let Ace suffer in other nightmares for a while and the fire-user would crack. He was already cracked. He was far past cracking. If he did not answer, he would be trapped in nightmares. If he did answer, he would still be trapped in nightmares. Ace knew better than to think responding would grant him a reprieve but the instinct that telling the truth would prevent further torment engraved itself into his thoughts.

_I don't have a reason to tell him. I don't really have a reason not to, either. I might as well try to make him less murderous…_

Pitch stepped closer, not even raising his hand. Ace flinched away anyway.

"Blackbeard— formerly known as Teach— was a Whitebeard Pirate. He tried to murder one of his brothers for a Devil Fruit that can control darkness. I hunted him and he captured me. In the end, that caused my death." Ace explained in a rush, all while trying to convince himself he had not given in.

 _I shouldn't have said anything_ , he mentally wailed.  _Why why_ _ **why**_ _did I say anything? Cowardly idiot._

The Ace of old would have clung to the information he had even if doing so was strategically unnecessary. He would have kept his mouth shut and not even entertained the thought of sharing anything with an enemy. Then again, the Old Ace had not been subjected to prolonged torture. He had never truly experienced it for himself and realized how horrible it was. The Ace of now was broken. He was tired, and alone, and… and  _scared_. He accepted pain but he could not stand strong against it, unable to stare his foes in the eye and challenge them to hurt him anymore.

 _I can still do this_ , the fire-user told himself.  _I have to. I… I gave_   _Pitch information._ Guilt dug its claws into his chest.  _What have I_ _ **done**_ _? Now he'll probably ask other things. That might have been a test to see if he could get answers out of me._ Icy fear crept through his veins.  _If he wants to know about Oyaji, or Marco, or Jack, or Luffy, or anyone else I_ _ **have**_ _to stay quiet._

The thought came easy. The execution of said thought would not.

_Don't start being paranoid again. I'll be tortured regardless, but it may not be for information._

He wondered if that made it better or worse.

Pitch considered his words for a long time before shrugging indifferently. "I thought I recognized that fool from somewhere. You do not need to worry about him. He's dead. I killed him. And his crew too."

He spoke with the casualness of someone commenting on nice weather, like he had not just stated that he had slain the one responsible for so much of Ace's pain. The fire-user stared at the Spirit of Fear with bewilderment, his gob smacked expression making the Nightmare King perk up in a superior manner.

"It was  _easy_." Pitch gloated. "He thought he could control darkness, but I showed him how wrong he truly was. The darkness was not his to wield, so I simply ripped the power away from him." The Nightmare King grinned. "The darkness jumped at my call. It was eager to follow my commands."

He frowned thoughtfully. "It was almost as if I was meant to control that darkness. If I had wanted to, I could have turned it fully against him and used it to slaughter that fool, but I'm afraid I simply beheaded him and had my darkness devour his body." Pitch shook his head regretfully. "Such a waste. He would have made a fine Fearling. At least I got to transform the rest of his little gang."

Ace stayed quiet for a moment, a response on the tip of his tongue. He was not sure how to react to the news. On the one hand, Teach had been his bitter enemy and had ultimately caused the fire-user's death. The traitor had betrayed Whitebeard, almost murdered Thatch, caused the war at Marineford, and attacked Oyaji's lands just because he could. On the other end, Pitch was another enemy, one who had just confessed to gleefully murdering a man after somehow hijacking his power. And wasn't  _that_  bit of news disturbing?

 _What would happen if Jack faced Aokiji?_  Ace mused, then forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

"Thank you for killing Teach," he said, careful to specify why he was showing gratitude. "He was a monster, tried to kill one of his own brothers, and wished to hurt mine."

Pitch eyed him, probably searching to see whether he was sincere. "You are not disturbed by the manner in which I killed him and his followers?"

"No." Ace stated. "He deserved it. They all did."

The Spirit of Fear's eyes narrowed, glinting in a way that was nearly feral. "Though I in no way did it for you… You're welcome. Make no mistake: I killed him because he was an annoyance that thought he could be feared." The Nightmare King snorted before a savage grin crossed his face. "Humans should not have the power of Spirits. I think that may be why I was able to rip his powers away so effortlessly. Though I have to wonder what would transpire if you encountered a fire-wielding person. You are quite unstable after all…"

The smile widened to disturbing degrees and Ace shifted uncomfortably. He could not find it within himself to be angered by Pitch's statement about his abilities. The Summer Spirit was unable to brag about his grip on his powers or claim he had a healthy mental state. He would not have to worry about finding another fire-wielder though. Marco was the only one with 'fire' powers and Ace could not manipulate his blue flames any more than he could order the moon to exit orbit.

"I know I'm dangerous." Ace said casually, as if he were not speaking to one of his greatest enemies. "I think I'm past caring though." He was past caring about a lot of things.

Pitch stared at him wordlessly. Then a slow smile crept across his face. " _Good_."

The way he said it instantly put Ace on edge. The Nightmare King did not explain his sudden glee, instead forming his sand into a sinister sword.

"You truly are an entertaining soul, boy." Pitch said smoothly. "It's a pity Frost and the Moon got you first. You would be a wonderfully  _ruthless_  ally."

The Spirit of Fear's blade plunged into Ace's chest before the Summer Spirit could reply, and he snapped awake in the infirmary. The fire-user took a minute to breathe before he touched his hole-less torso. He instantly regretted the action when it caused the others in the room to notice his conscious state. The sound of a chair being thrown back made Ace's eyes unwillingly jerk open. The first thing he saw was a slightly disheveled chef.

"You're awake!" Maybe-Thatch blurted, reminding Ace of more nightmares than he could count.

The Fourth Division Commander tried to lean closer to the fire-user but was pulled back by an exasperated Maybe-Izo. Ace ignored them both, instead meeting the blue gaze of the last person in the room. His fingers clenched around the white blankets that covered his legs.

_Please please please please—_

"This is real, Ace." Marco said. "You've been asleep for two days."

Ace relaxed, letting his head fall back against the pillow heavily. Thatch gave a worried exclamation and leapt to his feet, ready to run for a doctor but Izo stopped him by his collar.

"He's  _fine_." The okama said. "Give him a moment."

The chef deflated. "Right. Sorry. Just a little jumpy after the seizures—" Thatch's mouth shut with an audible click.

Ace mentally sighed. Thatch should not feel bad. The chef could blurt that Ace was missing a leg and the fire-user would not care. Illness, injuries, and other bodily stresses were everyday occurrences as far as he was concerned. If they happened, they could not be prevented and it was best to move on and enjoy life while he could. Or more likely in his case, wait for the next string of tragedies and misery to strike. Although he could not get used to the pain it would stop eventually so why worry about it?

With this in mind, Ace kept his current discomfort off his face. He casually rubbed his chest again, still experiencing echoes of his latest stabbing. He was comforted to note that the injuries did not 'reappear' every time he blinked like they had during the last nightmare. The fire-user was happy he did not need to add 'hallucinations' to his growing list of mental problems.

He noticed that Thatch was faced perpendicular to the bed, using the wall for support as he leaned his head against it. The chef looked tired, just like people around Ace always did. Marco looked similar but Izo was as flawless as ever. Though the okama could be hiding the signs of his exhaustion under makeup.

The fire-user glanced at the three— the Phoenix in particular— and nibbled at his lip. Through his fragments of memory, he recalled the encounter with the Marines and Marco's injury. The blond pirate seemed to be perfectly fine now, not even sporting a single bandage, but Ace could not shake the notion that he should apologize for putting the man in danger. Marco always protested whenever the Summer Spirit showed remorse though. The fire-user did not want to upset the Phoenix.

A cold voice whispered that the First Division Commander probably hated or feared him but Ace shoved the ridiculous thought away. He pretended to concentrate on drawing so his companions would let him be, giving himself time to think. He could not apologize to Marco but he needed to say something to the man. But what?

_Please don't judge me for what you saw? I didn't mean for you to get hurt? Are you okay? Sorry for getting you in dan— No, that's an apology. Dammit._

Maybe he should forget about the Marines for now. He could not think of a way to speak with the Phoenix about it without making him feel like he needed to reassure Ace. The fire-user acknowledged that keeping his insecurities to himself was the opposite of what Whitebeard wanted him to do but he could not help it.

He wanted to be honest but apologizing only lead to lectures about worth that never stuck. Ace would have to focus on something smaller— and maybe more positive?— so Marco would not know he was berating himself for the millionth time. The fire-user thought back to his recent conversation with Pitch and got an idea.

" _Thank you for staying with me." Even though you got hurt because of me._

There. The sentiment was simple and had little to do with Ace's actual issue but he already felt better for sharing it. Marco blinked in surprise when he read the message. The fire-user wondered if he had ever thanked the man for helping him before instead of apologizing for inconveniencing him, and resolved to try to do the former more often. The Phoenix looked pleased by Ace's show of gratitude, his tense features softening.

"You're welcome, yoi." He said warmly.

Ace nodded and flipped to a new page, doodling a couple snowflakes. He also sketched a horse in the corner, only to cross it out when the drawing began to resemble a Nightmare. The fire-user stared at the scribbled over creature in disgust, slowly recalling more and more of his latest set of dreams.

 _Pitch let me go, didn't he?_  Ace thought uneasily.  _That's why I woke up right after speaking with him. He_ _ **let**_ _me regain consciousness._

The crazier part of him that still thought about his theories wondered if Kozmotis may have a hand in his sudden return to the world of the living. The more stable side of him scoffed at the naïve notion. The Nightmare King had released him for a purpose, one that was presumably sinister. Ace tried to replay the latest conversation over again in his mind but the words exchanged were already slipping away from him. His fists clenched as his anger bubbled up like corrosive acid and he fought against the desire to slam his hand into the table beside his bed.

If Ace showed he was upset, the Commanders would want to know what was wrong. They had to be tired of hearing him whine about his memory by now. He had told them he was having memory problems, right?

 _Look at that, I_ _ **don't remember**_ , Ace thought snidely.  _What a surprise._

It was a good thing he was not enough of a monster to lash out with his fury instead of directing it inward. If he did explode sometime soon like he was beginning to suspect he might, that would just add fuel to his self-pity and hatred and that would be just  _wonderful_.

 _I've gone from near-constantly sad to near-constantly pissed. Yay._  Ace thought sarcastically.

"—ou okay? Ace?"

The fire-user noted that Marco was speaking to him and made his lips lift into a smile. That was what he intended to do, anyway. He might not have succeeded. The Phoenix did not comment about his possibly deranged expression and crossed his legs, wiggling his elevated foot.

"Izo has gone to retrieve Bay, yoi." Marco said for what was possibly the second time. "It'll be the usual checkup but you should be able to leave soon."

The news managed to cheer Ace up and his fragmented anger dwindled away. His smile grew natural enough that the Phoenix returned it willingly, half-lidded eyes lightening. The fire-user doodled in his notebook. His mind was still muddled— as usual— and he wanted to ask what had happened before he fell unconscious. He paused when he looked at his arms, gaze locked on the fresh bandages wrapped around his wrists. Memory clicked and his shoulders hunched. He remembered now. Everyone thought he had hurt himself.

 _Not everyone_ , Ace recalled, heart lightening.  _Marco, Oyaji, and the Commanders were told the truth… and about Pitch. We were in a meeting._

Ace experienced a burst of childlike joy as he continued to gather more memories of the event. Marco had told the Commanders— except Haruta— about what Pitch had done. Oyaji had said he summoned the Allied Captains. They had been discussing the Nightmare King's abilities and someone had worried that Blackbeard might—

Just like that, Ace remembered.

" _Pitch killed Blackbeard."_

Ace wrote the words with a frantic energy that was worryingly familiar. He had shared information like this with the same urgency before. The Summer Spirit could not remember the exact context of the message but he could look through the notebook later to try to figure it out. For now, he watched Marco and Thatch blanch, caught off-guard by his revelation.

"What? Teach is dead?" Thatch asked faintly. "Pitch killed him?" At Ace's firm nod, the chef paled. " _How?_ "

Ace hesitated.  _"You don't want to know."_

Marco rose from his seat, already over his initial shock. His face was hard. "Yes, we do. We need to know what he has told you, Ace." The First Division Commander's tone forbade any insubordination. "Did he mention the Blackbeard Pirates?"

" _He killed them too."_  Ace told them, happier to share that bit of news. Then he paused, and reluctantly clarified.  _"Actually, he turned them into Fearlings. All except Blackbeard. He…" Marco wants to know. They all deserve to know. "…'ripped' the power of darkness away from Teach and beheaded him."_

Marco studied his words fervently, brow crinkling. Thatch read it as well, expression still pale and vacant.

"He killed him… just like that…" the chef said softly. "After everything we went through… Just like  _that_ …"

"Pitch hijacked Blackbeard's control over darkness, yoi?" Marco asked sharply, interrupting Thatch's low rambling. He pointed at the description of Teach's demise. "Is that what you mean by this?"

Ace nodded.

Various expressions flashed through Marco's face. "Oyaji needs to be informed about this. Once Bay arrives I'll…" He trailed off before starting again. "Once Bay checks you over  _we'll_  go speak with him, all right?"

The fire-user bobbed his head, gaze never leaving Thatch. The chef stared blankly at the wall opposite his chair, hands clasped tightly in his lap. Ace pondered if he looked like that whenever he got lost on memory lane and decided to leave the Fourth Division Commander alone to sort through his thoughts. Marco apparently agreed with him for he did not attempt to speak with Thatch.

"Listen," the Phoenix said, tipping his head so he stared into Ace's eyes. "We have a lot of things to talk about with Oyaji, and you're going to have to explain some things to him. I don't know if you remember it, but your last message before falling unconscious left a few of us… a little rattled. We'd like some clarification if you don't mind, yoi."

Ace had a feeling he would not like that conversation but nodded in agreement anyway. Marco would not hurt him. Oyaji would not either. They would talk, and he would be safe.

A moment later Bay came in with Izo trailing behind her and Ace unhappily prepared for his latest checkup. Even with the doctor's usual fussing and Marco's calm questions, the fire-user noticed when Thatch left the room, departing without saying a single word.

As his friend strode away, doubts crept back like shadows, and Ace wondered what he had done wrong this time.


	25. Blame and Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter. I completely forgot to update on Friday.

Ace decided he should be used to being out of his comfort zone by now. Whitebeard's room— once a place of relative sanctuary— had suddenly become as harsh and unbearable as almost everywhere else to the fire-user, changing from warm and welcoming to strained and anxiety-inducing. And the best part was, the tense atmosphere was entirely his fault. And not in a 'his brain was being paranoid again' way. He truly  _was_  to blame this time.

The Summer Spirit did not intend to be difficult or insubordinate. He did not mean to grow a backbone and stand firm in the face of opposition for once. He just felt it was best to avoid answering the questions of the Yonko and his First Division Commander, and it was not like they could make him talk.

 _Well, if they wanted to they could…_  Ace's thoughts tried to go down a dark path but he broke away before his mind could take more than a step in that direction.  _Marco and Oyaji won't hurt me._

Marco exhaled sharply, fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose and his patience noticeably thin. "I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this. We just need you to share what you know about Pitch's powers, yoi."

The Phoenix's warning tone should have scared the fire-user into compliance but it surprisingly only made him more determined to keep his silence. Ace shook his head once, not bothering to write his response. He heard Marco's teeth audibly clench. It seemed that even the blond Commander had his limits. The bitter— and possibly death-seeking— part of Ace wanted to poke and prod to see if the normally unflappable man would finally explode but he kept his expression utterly apathetic, not showing the slightest hint of mockery, nerves, or anger.

Of all the things Ace could be inflexible about, he had decided that keeping information from his father and brother was of top priority. He did not try to understand his own thought process, rather followed his instincts that telling the pirates about Pitch was a bad idea. Or maybe his pride was trying to make up for cracking and informing the Nightmare King about Blackbeard. Who knew? His ability to sort out legit concerns was not exactly rational at the moment.

Whitebeard had deigned to let Marco try to pry the intel they requested out of Ace's death-like grip, staying out of his children's argument for the time being. The fire-user guessed that the Yonko would side with the Phoenix eventually however, a thought that only made him want to keep his stance all the more. There was a reason he had been vague even when spilling his secrets to Whitebeard. There were still things he had kept close to his chest, including the Nightmare King's powers and exact nature. He did not want the Yonko to worry.

Marco took Ace's notebook and flipped back a few pages, pointing at the message that was the reason for this whole conversation. The fire-user despised past-him for revealing that the black sand was an instant kill— or enslavement, depending on how you looked at it— for everyone except him and Jack. Because of that, the First Division Commander and Yonko wanted him to  _explain_  and Ace did not see any benefit from making them fear Pitch.

"Ace, we need you to tell us what this means, why it happens, and what other abilities Pitch possesses, yoi." Marco pleaded with the close-lipped Summer Spirit.

Ace retrieved his notebook, practically yanking it from the Phoenix's grasp.  _"No. You'll be scared of him."_  he wrote.

"I doubt that." Marco shot back. "And I also don't see how that is a problem, yoi."

The fire-user modified his sentence and elaborated.  _"You'll be subconsciously scared of him, or worried that you won't be able to beat him. That's enough to give him more power and make your chances of defeating him much worse."_

"But if we don't know our enemy we'll be going in blind and he could get the drop on us." Marco argued. "We need to know what he is capable of so we'll be prepared when we face him, yoi."

" _You don't understand."_ Ace scribed, the letters jagged and messy due to his frustration.  _"Pitch is too powerful to beat. Telling you his abilities will only make things worse." Fear gives him power. Fear_ _ **of**_ _him gives him_ _ **more**_ _power._

"Are you sure about that, or did Pitch do something to you to make you want to keep his secrets?" Marco snapped at last, finally raising his voice. His eyes widened slightly, suggesting he had not meant to say the words aloud.

The feeling of absolute devastation that tore through Ace at his accusation was drowned by the anger that swelled up and consumed it. Flames licked at the Summer Spirit's shoulders and he balled his fist, nearly breaking his pen. A sentence could not portray the pure fury he felt at the Phoenix's claim and punching him would only bring Oyaji's ire so he performed the best, relatively peaceful insult he could.

Ace discarded his notebook carelessly on the floor and flipped Marco off with both middle fingers, a cold sneer on his face.

The Phoenix's mouth fell open but before he could respond, a heavy weight landed on the black-haired fire-user's head. Ace's breath hitched and he braced himself. He made a mistake. Not-Whitebeard was going to hit him or kill him all because he was a stubborn brat who was rude to his superior he didn't mean it he didn't—

_Don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry. Stupid stupid stupid_ _**stupid** _ _—!_

_Calm down. I'm awake. This is real._

As quickly as Ace forgot that he was in the real world and not in a nightmare, he remembered that the real Whitebeard would not harm him. The shame and embarrassment that rushed through the fire-user came as fast as the anger left and he bowed his head to avoid looking at the Yonko or the Phoenix, cheeks tinged red. He wanted to apologize but apologies always seemed to make things worse. Still, he had to make them understand  _why_  so they would not hate him.

 _They won't hate me. They could never hate me,_ his logical side murmured.

 _Yes they can and they will. Everyone has limits. It looks like Marco's reaching his. I'm such a stubborn idiot,_ his suspicious side snarled.

Ace clapped his hands over his ears and gave himself a moment to breathe, battling the negative thoughts until they left him alone. For good measure, he kept the sadness that came creeping back from swamping him as well, mentally shoving it into a corner and locking it away for the time being. Not bad. He had to focus, not wallow in self-pity  _again_. If only his stupid brain would not overreact to every little thing and just let him pretend to be okay for a damn day.

...Self-awareness was weird. He could not stop his emotions and panicky instincts from bubbling up but he could at least understand, hate, and push them into the back of his mind now instead of having them strangle him and leave him as a hysterical mess on the floor.

Marco and Whitebeard seemed to understand Ace was struggling to maintain his lucidity so they kept silent, allowing him to perform internal maintenance as best he could. Minutes passed, and the fire-user's heartbeat returned to a healthier rate and the trembling slowly ceased.

Finally, Ace thought of words that seemed to convey his thoughts correctly, in a way that would hopefully not get him into more trouble. He reached up and patted Oyaji's hand a couple times before removing it from his head, then retrieved his notebook and wrote.

" _Pitch doesn't control me. He didn't break me or brainwash me. I'm still fighting him. I'm still_ _ **me**_ _."_  He underlined the last word multiple times before showing his message to the Phoenix.

"I know, yoi." Marco said quietly, voice tinged with guilt. "I did not mean to insinuate that you were subconsciously submitting to his manipulations. I was frustrated and let my emotions get the best of me. I'm sorry."

The Phoenix was instantly forgiven, no lectures or pity attached.

" _Apology accepted."_ Ace wrote, even though he was the one who should be showing remorse.  _I should still apologize even though they never like it_ , he thought _. Maybe if I'm specific they'll take it better? "I'm sorry I was ill-behaved and gave you the middle finger and acted like a rebellious teenaged brat again."_

That last sentence was unintentional. At times it was like he thought he was writing in a private journal instead of something he would share with others. Marco's expression twitched into an unhappy one before the look was covered up by his default bored one. Ace still saw it.

 _Apologies are bad_ , he thought.  _They make people miserable or agitated._

"I forgive you." The Phoenix said. "Still, I'd prefer being flipped off than being punched in the nose."

His tone was lightly teasing— and chastising?— and Ace cringed internally.  _He noticed? Sorry._ _ **Don't**_ _say it out loud. Change the subject._

" _I_ _ **cannot**_ _tell you about Pitch's abilities."_ Again he underlined the word he wanted them to take note of.

"Can you at least tell us  _why?_ " Marco emphasized.

" _It will make him stronger."_  Ace wrote truthfully.

Whitebeard cleared his throat. "Are you sure about that, my child, or is that merely your belief?"

The fire-user thought about it for a long pause before responding.  _"When more people know, there is a greater chance of the knowledge making Pitch stronger."_  He wrote vaguely.

"Then just tell Marco and I." the Yonko reasoned. "Once we are aware, we can decide what others need to be told."

Ace considered his words. Whitebeard made a good point. Telling too many people raised the risk of them fearing Pitch, but refraining from telling anyone would not help anybody in the long-run when they had to fight the Nightmare King.

 _Fine. I'll tell them,_ Ace thought even as a tiny piece of him mocked that he had just given in fire-user kindly told that self-loathing to shut up.

_"Pitch is immortal._ _**Literally** _ _immortal. He doesn't age and he cannot be killed while he is so powerful. He can only trapped or beaten back under_ _**very** _ _specific circumstances. We cannot force him into a retreat because he is far too strong for his minions to turn on him this time, and we have no means to make the artifact that can contain him."_

"'This time'?" Marco questioned.

Ace ignored him. He did not feel like explaining. Or maybe he was still too much of a coward to, seeing as how explaining Pitch's origins would easily lead to having to reveal his own to the Phoenix.  _I'm a selfish asshole. Why do they tolerate me?_

"What is the 'artifact'?" Whitebeard asked when he noticed the fire-user's unwillingness to elaborate for Marco.

The blond Commander seemed to comprehend that as well, for he sighed and shook his head. The Summer Spirit silently apologized to the Phoenix and recalled pieces of the story of the Nightmare King's first long-term defeat, told to him by Jack when he was younger.

" _It is a diamond dagger made from the tears of the Moon."_ Ace wrote cryptically, knowing that the Yonko at least would understand what that meant.  _"I don't remember the exact details, only that you have to stab Pitch in the heart with it and when that happens everyone in the vicinity will die except the stabber and Pitch. They'll be trapped in the dagger— in an endless darkness— until they're released again."_

Whitebeard frowned solemnly, his brow furrowing in thought.

Marco stared at the words in bewilderment, locked out of the loop because Ace was not brave enough to bring him into the fold yet.

"Sounds like a fairy tale." The Phoenix muttered.

If he could do so, Ace would have laughed aloud. Instead he merely smirked and shrugged carelessly.

" _Pitch can be fought, but I don't know how he can be permanently defeated. Oyaji could hit Pitch pointblank with one of his punches and he'd either only be sent flying or would just skid back a couple feet and laugh."_  Ace revealed viciously.  _"That is why I don't want to share this with anyone. People will be scared if they realize they are fighting an enemy they have little chance to beat, and fear literally gives Pitch more power."_

"I think I understand, yoi." Marco said. "But I also think that we'll find a way to triumph over him." His tone grew gentle. "The situation isn't as dire as you think it is."

Ace did not agree with or deny his statement. He could not claim his views were uninfluenced by his imprisonment and torture. He also could not have faith that the upcoming confrontation would end in anything but tragedy.

 _If Kozmotis is in there, we may be able to reason with him,_  the theorist part of Ace murmured.  _That would give us a better chance._

He knew better than to bring  _that_  up, however. The current company already seemed to think he was brainwashed.

_Marco did not mean it._

_He still thought it._

Ace wished his mind would stop being so divided about everything.

" _Are we done here then?"_  he asked brusquely. He really wanted to leave and maybe go up to the deck so he could look at the sky like he wanted to.

"Not really." Marco said. "We still have to discuss Blackbeard, yoi."

Ace grimaced.  _"I told you everything I know. If you need to read it again I'll rip out the pages."_  He tapped his notebook pointedly. He  _really_  wanted to leave.

"Yes, but the fact that Pitch was able to usurp Teach's control over his powers is concerning." The Phoenix said, patience restored now that the stubborn fire-user had answered one of their questions. "We don't know if that meant he absorbed Blackbeard's powers somehow. If he did, that means he can now neutralize Devil Fruits like Teach could."

Ace pressed on his bandaged forearms, right above his stitched wounds, in order to prevent himself from flashing back to his fight with Blackbeard. The pain was a great distraction to keep him grounded but Marco disagreed with his method, hurriedly grabbing the fire-user's hands and wrenching them away from his wrists. Ace shot him a frown, a look that the Phoenix mirrored.

"Don't do that, Ace." He said sternly, a strained undercurrent to his voice.

Ace did not see what the big deal was so he merely shrugged neutrally.

Marco's lips pressed together, conveying his displeasure but he moved on. "Please, is there anything else you can tell us about how Pitch killed him? Did he give any hints how he gained control over Teach's darkness?"

Ace shook his head, abruptly feeling drained. He pulled his wrists from Marco's grasp and shuffled a few steps away from him, crossing his arms. The walls were closing in again, creeping closer and boxing the Summer Spirit in. The fire-user shut his eyes so he would not have to look at them. Hands landed on his shoulders and he twitched, eyes flipping open to meet Marco's concerned blue orbs. The blond pirate studied his face for a moment before stepping back.

"Actually… I think you can go." The Phoenix said. "Oyaji and I still need to discuss some things but I think Izo and Vista aren't busy at the moment, yoi."

 _Ace has to stay with his babysitters because he can't take care of himself_ , the fire-user internally sneered.

Outwardly he merely nodded and waved to Whitebeard. He barely took two steps before he halted.

" _I need to go talk to Thatch first."_  Ace told them. He paused, then added.  _"Alone."_

Marco's eyebrows crept up his forehead and a frown tugged at his lips. "Why? Is something the matter?"

Ace remembered the chef's desolate expression as he walked out of the infirmary earlier that day.

" _He looked upset about something. Didn't you notice?"_  he wrote, puzzled.

"I guess not, yoi." Marco said, sharing a glance with Whitebeard. "I'll go with you."

" _I can do it myself."_  Ace wrote, feeling a twinge of annoyance. Did Marco think he was not capable? Or did he think the unstable fire-user would make things worse?

The Phoenix did not appear to notice his annoyance. "I just meant that I'll help you find him, then leave when you talk to him. I still don't want you wandering around the ship by yourself, yoi."

 _I won't 'wander'. I think I know where Thatch is_ , Ace thought angrily.

He kept his resentment to himself, knowing that the First Division Commander was just trying to keep him safe— from Pitch and possibly Ace himself. The fire-user nodded again and went to seek out the chef with the Phoenix trailing behind him.

Just like Ace suspected, Thatch was in his room in the Commander's quarters. It was telling that the Fourth Division Commander was there at this hour. The chef was usually bossing his cooks around in the kitchen or out laying down contraptions for an unlucky pirate to stumble into about this time of day. Instead Thatch was sitting on his bed and staring at the opposite wall, skin pale and posture slumped. Ace wondered if he was often found looking like that and felt a strange hollowness open up in his gut.

Marco did not enter the room, instead backing away as soon as he saw Thatch was in there. Ace's heart leapt into his throat and he had to fight the urge to glance at the Phoenix and silently beg for guidance. He could not look to Marco to help him. He had sworn he could do this by himself and so he would. The fire-user swallowed his nerves and hesitantly knocked on the open door.

Thatch jolted, startled by the sudden noise. The chef's hands twitched towards the swords laying on his the table beside him and Ace shifted his weight onto his back foot, ready to flee if he needed to. Thankfully, the pompadour-sporting pirate spotted the intruder and dropped his hands from the swords' hilts before he could swing them at the fire-user.

"Ace." Thatch put on a smile so fake Ace wondered why he tried. "You scared me. Does Marco need me or something?"

The fire-user glanced behind him and noticed the Phoenix was gone. He must have returned to Whitebeard already. Warmth trickled through Ace's cold chest as he comprehended the First Division Commander had actually trusted him enough to speak with Thatch alone.

He inched into the chef's room, shaking his head, and cautiously perched beside Thatch on his bed. Fortunately the noticeably unhappy pirate did not protest, instead scooching a little to the left to give Ace more space.

"What do you need then?" Thatch asked in his usual friendly tone, but Ace could hear a slight, shaky undertone to it.

The fire-user shrugged his shoulders, uncertain how to proceed. He missed the days when he could speak— both literally and figuratively— without having to second-guess everything he wanted to say. If he hurt someone's feelings on accident back then, he could apologize and that would be that. Now it seemed like conversation did not come so easily, and it felt like everything he said would be wrong.

_Did I do something to upset you?_

Ace did not write the question, knowing it would cause the chef to spout denials instead of telling him what was wrong. The Summer Spirit suspected something he had written had distressed Thatch but despite that his dip in mood might not be because of the fire-user specifically, if that made any sense. It could be a subject he brought up that caused the Fourth Division Commander to close himself off from others, not Ace himself.

" _What's bugging you?"_  The question was a bit blunt but Ace did not know where else to start.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fi—" Thatch began, only to cut himself off when the fire-user shot him a sharp look. The chef sighed and leaned his head back, looking at the ceiling. "…You're a bit of a hypocrite, you know." He muttered under his breath.

Ace saw the Fourth Division Commander's hands twitch, like he wanted to cover his mouth. Thatch should not worry about it. The fire-user knew he was a pretty terrible person—  _Murderer, liar, selfish, coward, monster, freak_ — but at least the chef was not implying he was being mind-controlled by the enemy. He knew he was closed off, secretive, and liked to deal with his own problems, but Thatch was not like Ace. The chef was open, friendly, and willing to pour his heart out to his family when he needed to. That was why this isolation was so wrong. So Ace ignored the comment entirely and circled his first question. Thatch wilted, looking down at his hands.

"…Teach is dead." He whispered. "You couldn't beat Teach. I couldn't beat Teach. The whole crew couldn't beat Teach when were got in a fight with him when Oyaji was still recovering. But Pitch Black killed him, just like  _that_." He snapped his fingers. "After everything we went through because of Teach, he was casually slain by a guy who probably did not even know who he was, or what he had done to any of us."

The chef brought his legs to his chest and leaned his head on them. "It's weird. I should be relieved that Teach can't hurt us again but I'm  _not_." Thatch mumbled into his knees. "We don't have to fight him again but we weren't the ones to beat him, you know? He caused m— us so much pain but in the end we weren't the ones to defeat him. It feels like… we failed or something."

Ace kept himself from drawing swirls in his notebook, not wanting Thatch to mistakenly believe the fire-user's attention was drifting. He merely had no clue what to say. His guilt for losing to Teach, causing Marineford, and following refusal to return to his family after being resurrected gnawed at him. He did his best to ignore it, keeping it bottled up with everything else he kept hidden.

" _You may not have been the ones to defeat Teach but you did beat him."_  He wrote slowly.  _"He's dead and gone, but you're still alive. The Whitebeard Pirates are still alive and together."_

The words felt odd but strangely right at the same time. The fire-user himself did not feel conflicted about Teach's demise at the hands of Pitch. He was just glad the bastard was dead. Ace abruptly realized that Blackbeard's dreams had died with him and felt a surge of vindictive triumph over the fact.

Teach's motivation for everything he had done had been taken away from him. The power he had sought had been ripped from him, and he had died before his dream was close to being fulfilled. To Ace, it almost felt like karma had collected its debt. Teach had caused death and destruction to get and with his darkness, but in the end that same darkness had been ripped from his control at the whim of another.

 _I wonder how helpless he felt_ , Ace thought darkly.  _I hope he realized what was happening. He deserved it._

"I guess you're right." Thatch said, dragging the fire-user out of his cold thoughts. "We didn't vanquish him in a head-on fight, but we're still around. We outlasted him, and his crew. He tried to destroy us but he failed…" Ace could see the chef thinking about it, a sense of peace coming over the Commander.

"He's never coming back." He said softly. Then he smiled. "Thanks, kid. I think I feel a little better."

It was not a complete turnaround or recovery, but Ace knew better than anyone that things like this took time. Thatch deserved that time, but he should not become antisocial and reclusive—  _and scarred_ — like Ace. The fire-user smiled back at the chef.

There was a distant crash, followed by loud shouts. Thatch leapt to his feet but Ace remained seated. He idly wondered if they were being attacked before dismissing the idea. Unless some lucky bastard had gotten to the lower levels without anyone noticing, it was very unlikely that there was an invader. Someone had probably just wandered into one of Thatch's pranks.

But Thatch had been in his room all day, moping. And if he set up a practical joke earlier, he should be smirking triumphantly or laughing instead of watching the door warily. Besides, Pitch and his minions were perfectly capable of popping out of the shadows to attack from—

A blur shot through Thatch's open door, lunging directly for Ace.

Instinct took over and the fire-user sprang upwards and backwards, momentarily taking flight as he flung himself out of the path of the assailant. The blur shot through the spot the Summer Spirit had previously been in and slammed into Thatch instead, knocking him over. Heat flared in Ace's fingertips but the fire was snuffed out before it could form as he laid his eyes on the chef's 'attacker'.

A white, fluffy dog perched on Thatch's chest, licking his face a few times before pausing and realizing this was not his original target. The furry creature immediately stopped nuzzling the indignantly spluttering chef and turned to stare at Ace. The dog gave a happy bark and leapt off Thatch, sliding on the hardwood floors as he attempted to run up to the fire-user. He went low to the ground as if to jump, then paused, sniffing the air. The dog trotted over to Ace and sniffed his hand before he looked up at the Summer Spirit.

Ace stared back at the dog in bewilderment, as unmoving as a statue. He was not exactly afraid of the animal, more confused by his presence and unwilling to budge in case doing so caused it to jump on him— or worse. He had experienced too many maulings at the claws and teeth of Fearlings and Nightmares to not be apprehensive but the dog did not seem to want to hurt him…

Thatch mistook his wary stillness for paralyzed fear.

"Stefan, come here!" The chef said, tone stern but with a hint of urgency.

The dog ignored the command and smelled Ace's hand again.

" _Stefan—_!" Thatch began warningly but stopped when Ace finally moved.

The fire-user slowly touched the dog's head, stroking his fur almost instinctively. Stefan gave a happy yip and sat down in front of Ace, butting his head against his fingers in a silent demand for more pets. Glad he was not going to be jumped on, the Summer Spirit sat as well, Thatch's presence drifting from his mind. He continued to pet the dog, feeling the softness of his fur beneath his fingertips.

Right. This was Stefan. Stefan, the dog. The dog that Whitebeard owned. The dog that everyone on the ship definitely knew about.

…Ace did not remember him. He did not remember him  _at all._

The fire-user bit his lip, eyes stinging for the first time in a while. He was not going to cry. He was  _not_  going to start wailing like an infant because he could not recall that Oyaji had a dog. The Summer Spirit began to ponder what else he could have  _completely forgotten_  about but pushed the rising panic into the corner of his mind before he could break down or freak out.

Stefan noticed his distress and clambered into his lap, nuzzling his cheek and licking it. After his initial surprise, the dog appeared to have no aversion to Ace's altered appearance— and scent?— happy that his friend had come back after such a long time. The fire-user tried to remember if Stefan had liked him so much before Marineford and could not.

_Don't think about it._

Ace finally recalled that he still had an audience and glanced awkwardly at Thatch, Curiel, and Jiru. All three had dopey smiles on their faces that would have been great blackmail material if the fire-user could take a picture. The Commanders looked at the ceiling or walls, embarrassed to be caught gawking, and the Tenth Division Commander spoke.

"Hehe… I see that Stefan found you." Curiel said sheepishly. "He's been a menace ever since you were brought on board— could probably smell you. Bay said she'd boot him off the ship if he got in the infirmary or bothered you so we've been keeping him in the Commander quarters while you were up and about. We weren't sure how you'd… respond to him."

Ace's hand stopped stroking the dog's back and Stefan whined. The fire-user peered at the animal's face and was shocked into stillness once more. Stefan looked back at him, unconditional joy and fondness in his dark eyes. The dog did not care that Ace had weird marks on him, was not speaking, and was a little more timid than he remembered. He was just pleased that the fire-user was back. That pure happiness and complete lack of judgement made a smile tug at Ace's lips. He reached out with a quivering hand and stroked Stefan's fur again, making him rumble lowly in content.

"…I think he's okay." Thatch said softly.

Ace guessed he was not supposed to hear that, but was unaffected by the statement. He cautiously hugged the dog, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his cheek against his head. Stefan accepted the embrace happily and his tail whacked the fire-user's side as it wagged enthusiastically. Ace experienced the stupid urge to cry again, but felt that sadness was not the source this time.

For the moment, he was at peace.

He hoped it would last.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack never thought he would enjoy being alone. Well, he was not completely alone. Baby Tooth remained a supportive companion for the days between their departure from the Thousand Sunny and arriving at Whitebeard's closest territory, staying on his hoodie or flying at his side as they explored. The Winter Spirit avoided the natives on principle, partially because he was uncertain whether they would fear him or not, partially because he did not particularly want to speak with anyone at the moment.

The island was seemingly Pitch-free, a definite plus in Jack's book. He did not want to face another massacre like he had with the Marines in the mountains. Seeing as there was little rhyme or reason for the Nightmare King's targets, it was just through luck that this place was still untouched by the Fearlings and Nightmares. He hoped it lasted, especially considering that the island was so close to Pitch's base.

 _We need to remember where the shadowy island is in case we need to go back there_ , Jack mused as he sat in a tree outside of one of the many villages on Whitebeard's island.  _Though I doubt Pitch would stay there anymore because it got invaded a few times. He'll probably move. Unless he thinks anyone who goes there won't be a threat…_

Surprisingly, the lack of interaction and even general action had helped Jack greatly, allowing him to calm down and deal with the frustration that troubled him. He was not willing to let go of his possible grudge just yet, but he would not throw a fit and bury Luffy with a blizzard the next time he saw the rubber man. The fact that the Straw Hat Captain still had not remembered him rankled at the Guardian, but it was only a tiny part of the reason he was so furious.

Luffy had nearly caused Law to drown. He had accidentally thrown his friend into the sea. If the Heart Pirate had been retrieved immediately, had been conscious and strong enough to scowl at the Straw Hat Captain and maybe amputate a couple of his limbs in retaliation, Jack could have let it go and laughed it off. But the surgeon had almost  _died_. And Luffy had moved on from it immediately, without even thinking about what he had almost done.

Sure, his present-focused attitude was done without malice and could be very admirable at times, but that did not make it  _right_.

Baby Tooth took off from her usual perch on his shoulder, flying upward and looking around hopefully. Today was the day that the Thousand Sunny was supposed to reach this island unless complications arose. If the Straw Hats did not arrive today, Jack had decided to give the pirates an extra day to show up before he started searching for them. The sea could not be relied on to let ships sail peacefully to their destinations, and it was highly possible that they could be thrown off course by a storm.

 _At least I'll know_ _ **I**_ _didn't create it,_  Jack mused.

Baby Tooth flew back to his side, chirping excitedly. Jack nodded and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He leapt into the air and let the Wind take him towards the beach, spotting a familiar ship heading towards the island. He spotted Usopp in the crow's nest and waved at the sniper, who returned the greeting and shouted down to the pirates on the deck.

The Winter Spirit landed gracefully beside Robin, who smiled in greeting, not even the slightest bit startled by his sudden descent. Jack supposed that being a Straw Hat made a person get used to things falling from the sky, though he smugly surmised that those plummets were much less controlled than his. The other humans on the ship rushed or wandered over to greet the Guardian, some faster than others. Zoro was noticeably absent, but Jack quickly spotted him napping against the mast.

Among them was Law, who— while slightly paler and more tired-looking than usual— was up on his feet and came to them without showing the slightest sign of illness or pain. Baby Tooth gave an excited squeal and flew to the surgeon, hugging his cheek happily and chattering greetings in his ear. Law rolled his grey eyes even as he petted her head gently.

"Hello to you, too." He murmured.

The Fairy asked if he was okay, not that the surgeon would know that. Apparently her tone conveyed enough concern that Law understood regardless.

"I'm fine. There were no further complications." He assured her.

Baby Tooth clung to Law's face for a moment longer, nuzzling his cheek affectionately, before floating up and landing on his hat, smiling like a cat that had just been given cream. The surgeon looked skyward again and shook his head ruefully, careful not to dislodge his passenger.

Jack hid a smile. There was no doubt in his mind that the Fairy had wormed her way into the stern man's distant heart. It was so  _cute_. The Guardian had a feeling he would lose a couple limbs if he said that aloud though so he kept his sentiments to himself.

"Hey, Jack!"

The Winter Spirit kept his posture relaxed as Luffy ran up to him, a wide smile on his face. Jack stopped himself from wondering if the Straw Hat was just being his usual happy-go-lucky self or if he had already forgotten about— or moved past— the fact that the Guardian had been angry with him. If he allowed himself to mull over the pirate's attitude, he would get moody again and the last thing he needed was to bring a storm here and end up 'attacking' one of Whitebeard's territories.

"Anything to report?" Sabo asked, thankfully giving Jack an excuse not to greet Luffy.

"Nope." Jack said, popping the 'p'. "The island is as quiet as can be. I haven't seen a single Nightmare or Fearling on the place."

Usopp slumped slightly, looking relieved. "Oh, good."

The ship pulled up to the dock without incident— and without being fired upon which was always a bonus. Franky, Brook, Chopper, and the sleeping Zoro stayed behind to guard the Sunny while the rest of the pirates, Revolutionaries, and Spirits departed.

As Jack's feet landed on the firm wood of the pier, a man walked quickly towards them. His steps were not urgent and the look on his face was calm and kind, but Law and Sanji tensed warily, and Koala's stance shifted to better balance herself. The man stopped before the visitors, eyes flicking up to look at the Straw Hat Pirate symbol displayed proudly up above. Instantly, the man's posture relaxed.

"Welcome, Straw Hat Pirates!" the man said warmly. "I am Mayor Harold. How may I help you?"

More than one person paused, surprised by the genuine, friendly greeting they were receiving. Even Luffy was taken aback, more used to people sneering— or screaming— "Pirates!" and running away like scared chickens.

It was Nami who broke the stunned silence. "You know us?"

The mayor nodded exuberantly. "Of course, young lady. Your Captain fought alongside Whitebeard during the War and is the brother of one of his Commanders." He looked at Luffy and his eyes softened. "As a result, the Straw Hat Pirates and their allies are considered friends and unofficial allies of the Whitebeard Pirates. If you go to any of Whitebeard's territories you will be welcomed."

Jack's gaze caught Sanji's and he saw the calculating look in the cook's eyes. The Guardian guessed he was thinking about what this could mean for the crew, while maybe also resisting the urge to slap himself— and possibly Luffy— for not knowing they were considered allies of such a powerful figure.

"We need the Den Den number of the Old Man." Luffy said bluntly and without preamble. "It's really important. Ac—"

Extra arms appeared on his shoulders and the hands clapped over his mouth. Robin looked amused as she held the position while her Captain mumbled into her conjured hands, and she only released him when he went silent. She let him go and Luffy pouted, but stayed silent.

"Of course." The mayor said without pause. "I believe that you should use your own Den Den. It will have a greater range than ours."

He was either really good at keeping a straight face, or he was used to meeting strange characters like the Straw Hats. Seeing as how his home was under the protection Whitebeard, probably the latter with a bit of the former. The mayor wrote something down and handed it to Luffy, who grinned at the piece of paper.

"Thanks, Henry!" he chirped.

The mayor took it in stride, not the least bit offended. "Actually, it's Harold."

"Right." Luffy said vaguely, practically vibrating with energy. "Come on, we have to go call the Old Man!"

He ran back onto the ship before anyone could stop him. Sabo chuckled, Nami growled, and Robin smiled serenely.

"If you need supplies or anything before you depart, do not hesitate to ask." The mayor said kindly.

"Thank you, Mayor Harold." Sanji replied for his absent Captain.

He nodded gracefully and waved as the visitors rushed back onto their ship to find Luffy before he called Whitebeard on his own.

"Well, that was easy." Sabo commented. "I'm used to everything going wrong for us. I thought we'd have to at least fight  _someone_."

The Logia glanced at Jack, who shrugged helplessly. He was not certain the mayor had even seen him today, not that he was going to bring that up. If that was the case though, for once the Winter Spirit was glad he was invisible and had not caused a scene.

"I guess we just got lucky." Usopp said, happy to not have to deal with a misunderstanding for once.

Nami abruptly smacked her forehead. "We're such idiots! We should have had Jack ask for the Number when he was here all this time, then fly back to us."

"That wouldn't have worked." Jack said instantly.

"Why not?" Usopp asked curiously.

The Guardian mentally cursed himself as he thought up an excuse other than 'I'm invisible to most people.' "I've been staying hidden. I'm not a Straw Hat Pirate and I have no proof that I'm allied with you. If I came waltzing up to them and asked for Whitebeard's number they'd attack me."

Luckily, the sniper bought it. "That's true…"

They found Luffy with the others that remained on the ship hand reaching for the Den Den. Sanji tackled his Captain to the ground, sitting on his back with a stern expression on his face.

"Wait a minute, shitty Captain! We have to think about what we're going to say."

Luffy's arms were trapped under him so he stretched his neck in an attempt to grab the snail with his teeth. Nami picked it up and carried it away.

The rubber pirate huffed. "We're going to tell the Old Man and Pineapple that Ace is alive and about Pitch Black."

"Yes," Sanji said patiently. "But we need to figure out  _how_  we're going to tell them. Do you think they'll just believe that Ace is alive?"

"I wouldn't lie about that." Luffy said seriously.

The cook sighed. "I know that—"

"And so do they." The Straw Hat Pirate said, shockingly stern. He wiggled out from under Sanji and took the Den Den. "I'm calling them."

He dialed the number and waited. With each purr, the butterflies in Jack's stomach grew as nerves got the best of him. What if they did not pick up? What if they did not believe them? What if the number was out of date and they could not contact the Whitebeard Pirates? It had already been so long since Ace escaped Pitch. Was he alone? Scared? Unconscious? Captured again? Was he even ali—?

The purring stopped as the line was picked up.

" _Hello? Who is this?"_  the man on the other end asked, tone cautious but not confrontational.

"Hi! I'm Monkey D. Luffy. I'm gonna be Pirate King!" the rubber man greeted.

" _Luffy!"_ the person gasped, the Den Den's eyes bugging out. His voice grew distant for a moment.  _"It's Luffy!"_  There was the sound of muffled shouts.  _"Quiet,_ _ **quiet!**_ _"_  Jack doubted the plea for silence was directed towards them.  _"I'm Vista, one of Whitebeard's Commanders. Listen—"_

"Hi, Velvet." Luffy interrupted. "I have something really important to tell you."

" _Vista._ _All right but I—"_

"Sanji says you won't believe me but I know you will." The rubber man continued.

" _Nice to hear but—"_

"Ace is alive." Luffy said firmly but softly. "I don't know how but he is. He was captured by this guy called Pitch Black but he escaped and he's out there alone and—"

" _We know."_

That silenced the Straw Hat Captain. Sanji snagged the Den Den from Luffy's limp grasp and spoke.

"This is Sanji, the Straw Hats' cook. What do you mean, you  _know?_ "

" _We've been trying to find you for weeks."_  Vista said, the Den Den looking both relieved and exhausted. _"Ace is here, on the Moby Dick. He has been for a couple months."_

There was a moment of complete silence.

Then everyone shouted at once. " _WHAT?!_ "

ROTGOPROTGOP

Being an Ally of Whitebeard certainly had its benefits. One of them was being able to stop in town for supplies and not have to worry about being chased out. The Maelstrom Spider Pirates had not intended to have to get food and other necessities before meeting up with the Yonko, but a recent storm had set them off course, delaying them by four days and leaving their rations dwindling. Lucky for them, they just happened to drift to one of Whitebeard's many territories, where they were welcomed with open arms.

Squard sat on a barrel near the edge of the welcoming party that was going on, drinking from a tankard and smiling to himself as he watched his crew enjoy themselves. The party had not been planned but the natives had been overjoyed to be able to help one of Whitebeard's allies and begged the pirates to join them and celebrate.

Before the storm the Maelstrom Spider Pirates had been ahead of schedule as they made their way to the meeting point with the Yonko, so Squard gave in and gave his permission to have fun for one night. They would be on their way come morning, regardless of any complaints or hangovers the pirates may experience in the near-future.

Squard chuckled as two of his men clung to each other and attempted a type of line dance, instead falling onto their butts to the glee of their crewmates and the villagers. The Captain himself was not yet tipsy enough to be drunk, though he was pleasantly buzzed at the moment. The pirate heard someone sit beside him and glanced at the person, just able to spot a vague shape among the shadows against the wall. The guy must be wearing black or other muted colors. He nearly blended into the darkness around him. Squard mumbled a greeting, leaning back with a sigh.

"Aren't you going to join them?" his companion asked in a soft, velvety voice.

"Nah." Squard grunted. "I just like to watch."

"Hmm." The man murmured. "You do not want to become too inebriated. You want to keep your guard up."

"Yup." Squard admitted freely. "You never know what can happen."

"Nowhere is truly safe." His companion agreed. "You already lost one crew. You're so afraid to lose the other."

Squard blinked, caught between feeling shocked that the man knew about that and angry that he had brought up his loss so casually. He turned to confront his companion and terror gripped his heart. The 'person' beside him met his gaze calmly, even as pure malice shone in his unnatural eyes.

The Captain found himself paralyzed beneath that horrifying gaze, feeling as if he were facing a flesh-eating monster instead of an apparent humanoid. Now that his mind was clear, he could sense the power and unsettling aura that emanated from the 'man', sending icy water down his spine and making his hands shake.

The creature— for this thing could not be called human by any definition of the word— shifted his gaze away from Squard, landing on his oblivious crew and the villagers almost gently. Squard regained his ability to speak even as his fear grew tenfold.

"Please, don't." he whispered.

The monster grinned with too many teeth.

Darkness rose up like a tsunami to cover the moonlit sky, and the air filled with screams.


	26. Reunion

It had been two days since Ace had re-met Stefan. The fire-user could honestly say that the dog finding him was one of the best things to happen to him in recent memory. It may be selfish, but he wanted to keep the white canine around as much as possible because not only was he good company, but Stefan  _did not care_.

Well, the dog did care about the fire-user, but not in the ways that ended up making him feel like the most pathetic being on the planet. He did not care that Ace was always tense, freaked out about nothing, and looked and acted strange. He did not stare at the fire-user judgmentally or with unwanted concern.

Instead he was merely there, a pillar of support that Ace did not know he wanted or needed. Stefan stuck to his side like he was glued there, able to sense his moods better than any pirate. He always seemed to know when Ace had enough human interaction, when he was upset, and when he was about to collapse into a panicked puddle of frantic breathing and anxiety. The Whitebeard Pirates quickly learned to back off when the dog growled at them, not leaving Ace alone completely but giving him enough space for Stefan— and him— to calm down.

Ace could not get used to Stefan's complete lack of expectation, always feeling like a fraud or fake whenever the canine looked at him with those unconditionally loving eyes. He did not deserve that adoration, and half expected the dog to see that and abandon him. Stefan stayed though, and Ace was greedily happy that he did.

As an added bonus, the dog gave him something to hold onto without appearing too needy. Ace could pet him, scratch him behind the ears, and hug him and no one would bat an eye. Stefan loved the attention, staying rather docile for such a playful pup as if he could sense such carefulness was required around the fire-user. That did not stop him from bounding around excitedly when Ace decided to play fetch with him.

Ace borrowed a ball from one of the pirates from the Third Division— he could not remember his name no matter how hard he tried— and was throwing it in the hall for Stefan to catch. He was suspicious that such activities there would normally be frowned upon but the Whitebeard Pirates were being surprisingly lenient. Izo and Fossa were watching as well, so it must be okay.

The fire-user threw the ball, watching it bounce along, and Stefan dove after it, grabbing it in his mouth and rushing back to show Ace his prize. The Summer Spirit accepted the offering back and smiled, stroking the dog's head and making his tail wag enthusiastically. Stefan lowered his chest to the ground, looking at Ace hopefully, and the fire-user obediently tossed the ball again.

Stefan ran after it, skidding on the floor, and nearly knocked over Thatch as the Fourth Division Commander entered the area. The chef gave an unmanly squawk and performed what looked like an odd dance as he attempted to keep himself from falling to the floor, the dog diving between his legs in his enthusiasm to complete his quest. Stefan ignored his plight and retrieved the ball, returning to Ace and dropping it in his lap.

The fire-user watched the pompadour-haired pirate steady himself, stuck between laughing and bidding a hasty retreat. The white canine noticed his uneasiness and whined, clambering into his lap and licking his face. Ace's muscles loosened and he petted the dog, smiling nervously at Thatch. The chef finally succeeded in keeping his balance and huffed, pouting as Izo and Fossa sniggered at his display.

"Rude." He muttered, then grinned at Ace. "I came to tell you it's lunch time. Do you want to come eat?"

The Summer Spirit had eaten yesterday and was not hungry. He purposely did not think about what the Whitebeard Pirates must assume about his new, odd eating habits. Ace brushed his fingers through Stefan's fur, avoided looking at the chef, and shook his head. He hoped Thatch would not be offended.

Thatch did not so much as blink. "Okay. Well, do you want to feed Stefan then?"

The fire-user looked at the dog, who nudged him with his nose. He nodded cautiously and gently pushed Stefan away so he could stand. The canine ran circles around him, perhaps sensing that he was about to receive food, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, giving him an adorably dopey look. Ace's lips twitched in amusement.

The humans nearly jumped out of their skins when Vista barreled into the hall like a monster was on his tail. He almost tripped over Stefan when the dog blocked him from running over— or maybe reaching— Ace. The swordsman kept his footing easier than Thatch did, braking in front of the fire-user's protector with barely a wobble. He was out of breath, but his expression was bright with excitement.

"There you are!" The Commander said in a rush, not bothering to greet his fellow Commanders. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Luffy just called. He and Sabo are on their way here! They'll be at the Moby Dick in a few days."

Thatch gave a happy gasp.

Izo's eyes widened with slight surprise before his features softened.

Fossa grinned from ear to ear.

Ace froze.

Later, Ace could feel some pride that the first emotion he experienced was joy. For a single moment his heart warmed and happiness soaked into his weary frame, making him feel wonderful and light, and that maybe everything was finally turning for the better. It was instantly trampled by a horrific detachment, his mind locking away his cheer out of self-preservation and leaving behind a tightening feeling in his chest and a growing static in his mind.

Ace calmly backed away from the pirates, ignoring Stefan's whine of protest. He absently patted the dog's head even as he walked quickly down the hall, barely noticing the Commanders calling after him. He did not stop when Thatch followed him, instead heading into the bathroom and slamming the door shut in the chef's face. He locked it for good measure, movements careful and precise as he turned the small mechanism to keep the pirates out.

With the barrier between himself and other people secured, the fire-user finally let his body react. He began to shake, hating himself for his breakdown even as it occurred, and pressed his hands over his mouth to keep himself from making any sounds of distress and alerting Thatch.

Ace was not panicking. He knew what panicking felt like and this was not that. Sure he had trembling hands, a stomach in knots, quick breathing, and scattering thoughts but he was not afraid. He was absolutely not losing it and was one hundred percent in control and okay even though  _his brothers were going to show up any day now and see what a pitiful wreck he was._

He should be happy. He  _was_  happy. But he was also scared. The fire-user should be skipping around the ship with a stupid grin on his face, leaking so much happiness and excitement that the crew would be sick of him. Instead here he was, locked in a bathroom so he could have some privacy, leaning over the countertop and trying not to vomit or pass out. For once, Ace could fully identify why he was reacting like he did though. He could acknowledge why he was so terrified, and that made him scared all the more.

The little bit of food the Summer Spirit had previously consumed threatened to come back up and he retched as quietly as he could manage, head over the sink. He did not want anyone to come in. He could not face them now.

Ace wiped at his mouth and studied his reflection in the mirror, taking in his every feature and flaw. His skin was paler than it used to be, not as if he had lost pigment but like he was ill. His flame-colored eyes were sunken and portrayed obvious exhaustion, a look only enhanced by the dark shadows under them. His wavy hair was more unkempt than usual, not as bad as some he had seen but still giving him the appearance of a person past caring. In other words he looked sick, tired, and weaker than he once was, no longer the confident pillar of strength he had been.

His brothers were coming. They would arrive soon. And when they saw Ace again, he would be undeniably different. They were going to meet him, and see that had changed. They would know he was  _broken_.

_What are they going to think of me?_

Showing cracks in front of the Whitebeard Pirates was one thing, but this was Jack, Luffy, and Sabo. Ace's brothers. His closest family. Jack looked to Ace for warm companionship so he would never be alone again. Luffy saw Ace as a protector, caretaker, and goal, someone to care for him without asking for anything in return. Sabo… It was difficult to say anymore, but Ace knew the blond expected him to defend their youngest sibling and be good enough to support Luffy and keep him from being harmed.

But now the fire-user could barely defend himself. His body was a mess, his mind was a mess, and he was no longer the same as he once was. They were going to look to him for support and reassurances when he could not even keep himself afloat. How would they react to his foggy memory, instinctive flinches, and panic attacks? How would they respond to his nightmares, meek acceptance of cruelty and horror, and all the flaws and insecurities he could no longer hide?

Ace was a big brother. To Sabo and Luffy, he may be the only one with that role if they did not remember Jack. He was expected to be the one to catch his siblings if they fell, not the other way around. He had to take care of them, not force them to care for him. Not to mention that Luffy probably would fail to understand what was even wrong. The pirate barely comprehended normal illness and injury, and trauma was much more complicated than that.

When they saw Ace, would they think he was fragile? Would their attitude towards him change? He could already imagine Luffy asking why Ace looked so weak and was not strong anymore, clearly picturing the confused, oblivious look on his face as he unintentionally hurt his brother and exposed his doubts for the world to see. Luffy would not understand, and Ace was in too many pieces to subconsciously comprehend that the rubber man would be acting without malice.

The fire-user gripped the countertop so tightly he might break it. He did not want that. If it broke, the Whitebeard Pirates could fix it or replace it but it would never be the same again. Ace forced his fingers to loosen, laying his hands flat on the smooth stone, and stared at his reflection again, He reached up and futilely brushed his fingers through his hair, swiftly giving up as it remained a tangled mess. He turned his back to the mirror in disgust and sat down, leaning against the cabinets under the sink with his knees pulled to his chest.

_What am I going to do?_

Ace knew he should not be scared. His brothers cared about him. They did. They would not shun him because he was broken. He could even claim with certainty that Jack would still love him regardless of his issues. But… what about Sabo and Luffy? The nightmares had not let his 'memories' and thoughts about them remain untarnished. His faith in them had been shaken, with illogical doubts plaguing his mind. What if they hated him? What if Sabo  _chose_  not to come back? What if Luffy thought he was pathetic and looked down on him for being unwilling to fight anymore? What if they were angry at him for dying and abandoning them?

Ace knew he was different. He knew he had changed. He knew he was weak. But he could not be those things in front of Sabo and Luffy. At best they would be disgusted or perplexed; at worst they would place the blame upon themselves for their brother's condition. Ace realized Jack would probably fall into the latter category if the fire-user showed the Winter Spirit how damaged he was and gripped his bandaged arms, focusing himself with the pain.

Ace could not risk burdening any of his brothers like that. He would have to repress it all. The insecurities, the fears, the instability, the pain, the memory loss,  _everything_. Trying to pretend to be who he once was would be impossible but… maybe he could at least try to be  _close_. He could not hide his muteness or the marks on his skin, but other than that he had to be  _normal_. He had to be the Old Ace as much as he could bear without breaking into pieces. He could not allow any slip ups, not the slightest tremor or flinch. Showing he was hurt and afraid would only confuse and harm his brothers and they deserved better than that after all the suffering the fire-user put them through.

Ace had to pretend to be strong for them, no matter how much it hurt.

It was a good thing he had a few days to practice.

ROTGOPROTGOP

If Jack were to freeze Luffy's feet to the deck, he was certain no one would object. For the three days since they had called the Whitebeard Pirates, the Straw Hat Captain refused to stop moving for anything except food and sleep. He whizzed around the ship like a rubber squirrel on a sugar high, practically vibrating with uncontainable excitement. Luffy nearly fell overboard twice today already due to his endless energy, and the Guardian bet the crew would have tied their Captain to the mast by now if they did not fear he would break it. Not that Jack could look down on the rubber man for his anticipation.

Today was the day they were scheduled to meet up with the Moby Dick and her occupants.

Today was the day they were reuniting with Ace.

The time it took to sail from Whitbeard's island to his ship did nothing to quell the pure joy that warmed Jack's heart as he eagerly looked forward to seeing Ace again. After years of being separated, all four of the brothers were going to be together again, even if Luffy did not recall their sworn kinship.

The Winter Spirit wanted nothing more than to fly ahead and get to Ace as soon as possible, but knew Luffy and Sabo would not forgive him for going without them. Or they would try to hitch a ride and fall in the ocean. Not to mention, the same problems Jack faced on the island applied here, too. The Whitebeard Pirates might not see him, and if they did, they might think he was an enemy. It bothered the Guardian to have to wait but he managed to stay patient.

Jack perched in the crow's nest with Luffy and Sabo, three sets of eyes riveted on the horizon. They should be able to spot the Moby Dick soon. The Straw Hat Pirate was literally bouncing impatiently and Sabo's fingers drummed on his leg. The Guardian himself was still and externally calm.

Perhaps the presence of two of his dumb little brothers had brought out his responsible side again, but the job of making sure Luffy did not fall into the sea and Sabo did not combust had fallen to him. He did not resent the others for keeping their distance from the twitchy and excited trio. It was obvious that Luffy's sustained restlessness was grating on more than one person's nerves and no one wanted to be in range when the rubber man lost the remnants of his patience and tried to fling himself to his goal.

Jack spotted a bright blue speck that stood out even among the cloudless sky and straightened. "It's Marco."

Sabo squinted in the direction the Winter Spirit was pointing. "It is." He said, surprised. "I wonder why he's coming. Maybe they had to move the ship?"

"Is Ace with him?" Luffy asked, nearly interrupting the Logia.

Jack studied the Phoenix as he drew closer, seeing no one flying with him or riding on his back. "Nope."

Luffy pouted, looking disappointed. "Oh." He brightened. "Let's see what Pineapple wants!"

He jumped from the crow's nest, bouncing when he hit the deck. Jack floated down more gracefully while Sabo used his flames to descend. The rest of the Straw Hats, Law, Baby Tooth, and Koala heard the commotion and gathered on the deck as well, all eyes on the circling Phoenix. Marco landed and transformed into a human, giving a casual wave.

The first thing Jack noticed about the blond pirate's appearance was that the man looked tired. His half-lidded eyes were slightly bloodshot, and his gaze flitted around like he was searching for danger. The Guardian felt a twinge of nerves at the sight, wondering what could cause the Phoenix to be so tense. Marco strode forward with a firm gait, stopping before Luffy and Sabo and nodding cordially.

"Straw Hat Luffy. It is nice to see you again, yoi." He glanced at his fellow blond. "And I'm guessing you are Sabo?"

"Yeah that's him. Where's Ace?" Luffy interjected, always one to get right to the point.

Nami whacked him on the head. "You did not even introduce us, idiot!"

"Ow. Nami's mean." The Straw Hat Captain complained, before focusing again. "Where's Ace?"

The navigator gave a small, angry snarl and was ignored.

The Phoenix looked amused— and also a little sad. "He is on the Moby Dick, as Vista told you. It will not be long before you reach our ship, yoi. However, Oyaji and I agreed it would be best if I spoke to you before you arrived. We both know you will not give me time once you get there."

Luffy grinned, unabashed.

"What do you need to talk to us about?" Sabo asked, voice tinged with slight worry.

Marco paused, eyes roaming over the pirates, Revolutionaries, and Spirits— not that he would know that. His gaze rested on Jack for a moment before he looked back to Luffy. To their surprise, he put his hand on the Straw Hat Captain's shoulder, ensuring the easily distracted pirate would focus on him.

"I wanted to give you a heads up before you arrived so you are not caught off guard." The Phoenix's voice was quiet but blunt. "As you know, Ace was held captive by Pitch Black. During his captivity he was tortured and his imprisonment… changed him. Ace is not the same as he once was."

An empty feeling opened in Jack's gut and numbness trickled through him. He fought off the desire to cover his ears and refuse to hear more, suspecting he was not going to like the rest of what Marco had to say. Ice crackled over his staff and the Phoenix spotted it, eyes opening slightly wider. He did not comment, and continued to speak.

"Pitch Black infected him with black sand. Ace now has tattoo-like black marks all over his body, which can be startling when you first see them." Marco continued, passionless tone suggesting he was giving a report. "The sand causes him to fall into nightmares filled with his greatest fears whenever he rests. The nightmares are quite realistic. As a result of that, he sometimes has difficulty remembering things, and will respond oddly to people or will not acknowledge their presences at all. Don't be surprised if he does not react to you the way you expect him to, yoi."

Slightly separated from the group gathered around Marco, Jack spotted Law listening with rapt attention. On his head, Baby Tooth sat there, clearly distressed. The Guardian almost went to her, but the surgeon reached up and offered and open palm. The little Fairy clambered into his hand and he lowered it to chest level, carefully stroking her with his free fingers.

Silently thanking Law for assisting Baby Tooth, Jack focused on his brothers again. He could see Luffy was confused— but also a little concerned— as Marco spoke. The Guardian could tell the rubber pirate could not fully comprehend why the Phoenix was saying these things and what they meant. The Winter Spirit, however, was beginning to understand the implications of his words perfectly, and Sabo's pained face suggested he understood as well. The empty feeling grew into a cold one.

"What I'm trying to say is that you should be prepared for Ace to act differently. He might flinch when you try to touch him. He'll apologize a lot. He might not remember previous conversations, if he took part in them at all." Marco hesitated again, looking like he wanted to slap himself, then sighed. "Ace is also mute. We don't know if it is permanent."

The blond pirate's words were straightforward and curt, not sugarcoating the situation the slightest bit. Jack knew that anything less would cause Luffy to be more confused than he already was, but the abrupt reveal was enough to break him out of his chilled numbness and send him reeling.

" _What?!_ " He and Sabo spoke at the same time, voices holding nearly identical pitches of shock and despair.

"That's awful." Chopper gasped.

"Ace can't talk?" Luffy asked curiously, head tipping.

"What did Pitch do to him?" Usopp whispered.

Marco appeared not to hear the sniper, or chose not to respond to him. "Yes, Ace cannot speak. He communicates through writing. We're hoping that if he gives his throat a rest he'll regain his voice but it isn't looking—" He stopped, rethinking his words. "We'll have to wait and see what happens."

Jack exchanged a worried glance with Sabo. He wondered if he had the same helplessness showing in his eyes.

"Oh. Okay." Luffy said. "I don't know why you think this will matter though. Ace is still Ace."

His words may have been uplifting if not for the expression the First Division Commander gained. Marco looked at Luffy, an eerie solemnness in his eyes that failed to hide a weary acceptance.

"Of course he is." He said softly, tone holding the slightest melancholic air. "I just wanted you to have prior warning."

Jack began to grasp that the Phoenix was here not just to warn them of Ace's situation, but try to convince the rubber pirate of the seriousness of it. It was a good attempt but the Guardian doubted it would make a difference. Unless Ace was bleeding out in front of him, Luffy might not comprehend if something was really wrong.

_If Ace's fears include what I think they might… Luffy being his innocently insensitive Luffy-self could make Ace react badly._

Jack wanted to call the thought a leap in logic with no basis, but he knew Ace. He knew what Ace feared. He knew the fire Spirit was not invincible and endlessly optimistic like their little brother. He had been captured. He had been tortured. He had been subjected to awful torments and was potentially mute forever because the Winter Spirit was not strong enough to protect him—

The cold feeling grew more pronounced and the Guardian gritted his teeth, forcing it out of his mind. He focused in time to hear Luffy's excited shout and see the Moby Dick appear on the horizon. Jack instinctively grabbed the Straw Hat Pirate by his collar to prevent him from trying to rocket over the gap between the ships. Sanji assisted by pinning his Captain's arms.

"Wait until we put up the gangplank."

The Whitebeard Pirates did it for them, placing a walkway between the ships for the newcomers to cross on as soon as they stopped. Luffy bolted onto the Moby Dick— dragging Jack with him, not that the Winter Spirit would complain. They nearly bowled over the group of closest pirates, causing a few to scramble out of their path with amusingly panicked expressions.

If he were not part of the torpedo, the Guardian would be laughing his head off. As it was, the Straw Hat's efforts caused him and Jack to land in an undignified heap, and the Winter Spirit scowled at his ignorant little brother.

"Oops." Luffy said. "Sorry, Jack."

"Gurarararara!"

Whitebeard's signature laugh sounded over the chaos, making both Jack and Luffy look up and smile sheepishly. Sabo took a breath and followed more slowly, wearing a mask of calm that the Guardian easily saw past. Before Jack could question the blond Revolutionary, the Yonko greeted them.

"You are always entertaining wherever you go, aren't you Straw Hat?" he said, eyes twinkling. "If you could, please refrain from shoving my children into the sea, hmm?"

Luffy barely acknowledged him, standing casually as he twisted his head and looked around. "Hi, Old Man. Your ship is huge! Oh, and this is Jack. Where's Ace?"

"You introduce him and not us?!" Nami shrieked.

Luffy pointed at the Straw Hats with a thumb over his shoulder, not even looking at her. "That's my crew, Sabo, Traffy, and Koala. Is Ace here?"

Jack could almost admire his one-track mind. He ignored the navigator's exasperated hissing as his own excitement and nerves came back, making his body tingle. He tapped his staff on the ground as he searched the deck hopefully, unable to see through the mob of pirates around them. Marco walked up to his Captain and whispered in his ear, making the Yonko's brow furrow slightly.

"I see. We shall hope for the best." He said, almost too soft for Jack to hear above the chatter.

Not hearing them talk, Luffy opened his mouth, likely to demand to know where his brother was again. He froze, jaw agape, and his gaze locked on something at the edge of the crowd. Jack followed his gaze, and thoughts stuttered to a halt.

Ace appeared among the throng of welcoming pirates, the mortals parting before him like water around a stone and silence dawning in his wake. Even from a distance, Jack could see the black marks streaked across the fire-user's exposed skin, a cruel reminder of what Pitch had done. Added to Ace's flame-colored eyes, it almost made him look feral or wild.

What concerned Jack though was the dark shadows under those eyes, the tiredness in Ace's features, and the paleness of his skin. He looked smaller, almost fragile, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and was a breath away from buckling under the pressure. Flame-colored eyes landed on the newcomers, zeroing in on Luffy and Jack— Why did Sabo suddenly dive to hide behind Franky?— and an emotion passed over Ace's features too quickly for the Guardian to identify it.

Shockingly, Luffy did not lunge for his brother and hug him, instead standing like a statue with a wide-eyed expression on his face. Jack did not know whether the sight of the physical changes had finally made him realize the truth in Marco's words or he was merely frozen by the fact that Ace was there, alive, and standing before them. Whatever kept Luffy locked in place lost its hold on him and the rubber pirate shot forward, arms outstretched and tears in his eyes.

" _Acccccccccceeeeeeeee!_ "

The fire-user's weight shifted and he planted his feet on the ground. For a heart stopping second, Jack thought Ace was going to retaliate violently or run, but instead he caught Luffy, barely moving as his brother slammed into him. The Summer Spirit's arms wrapped around his brother as the rubber pirate's encircled him multiple times, encasing his torso.

Luffy began to blubber as he clung to Ace and the elder brother rocked him slightly, allowing the younger to sob into his chest. Thanks to the position of the Summer Spirit's limbs, Jack was quick to spot the thick bandages wrapped around Ace's wrists, and anger ignited in his chest.

 _Someone hurt Ace recently. Did Pitch attack him here or was it someone on the ship?_  He discarded the thoughts for the moment, exhaling slowly.  _I'll find out later._

The Whitebeard Pirates, Straw Hat Pirates, and other observers did not cheer. It would have felt intrusive if they had. Instead they lingered, some grinning, some teary-eyed, some with forced stiff expressions. Jack himself beamed happily.

Neither of the brothers seemed to notice or care. A gentle smile crossed Ace's features and he laid his head on top of Luffy's, cheek pressed against his hair. Flame-colored eyes landed on Jack and Sabo, going round. Still wailing, the rubber pirate dragged Ace over to his brothers, practically shoving the fire-user at the blond Revolutionary.

"Ace! It's S-Sabo! He's alive too, see? You're both a-alive!"

Ace looked at the blond Logia and his face slipped into a neutral expression. The shift from smiling to apathetic was startling to say the least and Jack was not the only one who did a double take and stepped back because of it. As Luffy clung to his arm, the fire-user studied his missing blond brother, gaze almost emotionless but giving the vibe he was trying to stare into his soul. His fingers twitched.

Sabo smiled nervously, fiddling with his top hat. "H-Hi. Uh. It's me. Sorry about leaving. I-I lost my memory after the Celestial Dragon attacked me. I didn't remember you. I'm sorry. I— I know you're probably ang—"

Ace grabbed him by his cravat and pulled him into a hug, one arm around the Revolutionary and the other around Luffy. The youngest giggled and looped his arms around all three of them, smushing them together and pressing his face against Ace's shoulder again. Sabo chuckled waveringly while the Summer Spirit rolled his eyes. He pulled back, giving the Straw Hat Pirate a knowing smirk, and Luffy sniffed loudly, rubbing at his eyes.

"I'm not crying, Ace!" he denied as he wailed, still vigorously attempting to wipe away his tears.

The fire-user raised his eyebrows, superior smirk still in place. Jack half-expected him to say something teasing, only to recall that Ace literally could not. Grief and guilt tried to make his chest tighten but the Guardian vanquished them.

_I'll have to get used to Ace not being able to talk. If he can again, great. If not… I'll adapt. I wonder if any of the Guardians know American Sign Language…?_

Luffy shook his head violently and latched onto Ace again, quivering against him. Sabo never let go, hands pressed against the fire-user's back. Jack wondered if he was feeling his brother's heartbeat or breathing.

"You're alive." The blond-haired Logia whispered. "You're actually alive."

Ace patted his arm and gave him a reassuring grin. Sabo managed to give one in return before his lips pressed together in an attempt to suppress his own emotions. The Summer Spirit twitched suddenly, unnoticed by Luffy and his eyes slipped closed as his teeth clenched. He inhaled sharply, eyes reopening.

Flame-colored orbs drifted to Jack and something desperate entered them. The Guardian recognized the look of the young child that needed his older brother to protect him and tell him he was not a monster, a feeling hidden and caged by the expectations of the people around him. In other words, Ace was afraid for some reason and trying not to show it. Unsure if he should do more in the present company, the Winter Spirit stepped forward and plopped Ace's orange hat onto his head.

"I believe this belongs to you." He said, trying not to choke up.

He was the oldest brother. He was not supposed to cry. He was supposed to be cool and aloof and collected—

Ace grabbed Jack's arm before he could retreat and yanked him into an embrace. The Guardian of Fun was crushed between Ace and Luffy, with the Straw Hat Pirate not questioning or resenting the Winter Spirit's inclusion. Instead he trapped Jack in his rubbery hold too, refusing to let any of them out of his reach. Jack leaned into the hug willingly.

 _Ace is thinner_ , Jack thought, able to feel the difference in the fire-user's body tone.

Now that he was closer, the Guardian could see the way Ace's skin clung to his bones just a little too tightly, a look enhanced by the ash-tinged tone of his skin. The weight loss was nothing for a human, but for a Spirit that would be hard-pressed to starve it was a lot, and very concerning. Jack began to think about whether it was Pitch or stress that was responsible for the small change in Ace's physique and executed that line of thought before it could anger him.

His worry must have shown in his expression because Ace shook his head slightly, message obvious.

_Not now._

Jack nodded to convey that he understood. There was so much he wanted to say. There was so much he wanted to ask. There was so much he wanted to share and do. But for now he was content to be with his brothers— all three of them— for the first time in years.

_We did it. We found Ace. We're finally together again. All of us._

He bit his lip, doing his best not to join the crying party. Although 'crying duo' would be a more accurate term. While his little brothers wept happily, the Summer Spirit's eyes were completely dry. Jack kept studying the fire-user, taking in Ace's calm face. A face that showed gentleness and soft, tender joy but was also… off.

Ace was being  _careful_. He was being cautious and controlled, keeping his emotions in check. The fire-user was never one for self-restraint. He was closed-off at times, but he also wore his heart on his sleeve and his thoughts on his face, mostly around his brothers. Around others, he often wore a mask. Just like he was doing now.

Jack knew for certain that Ace was genuinely happy to see them. He knew that the Summer Spirit was overjoyed to be reunited with his brothers. But that was not  _all_  that he was feeling. He was hiding something, some different emotion, intentionally burying it so deep within himself that even he might deny it was there. But Jack was Ace's older brother. He could see that the fire-user was trying to hide things, trying to  _stay in control_.

Sabo and Luffy could not see the signs, but Jack did. He saw the smallest bit of tension in Ace's shoulders as his youngest brother's arms shifted towards his neck. He saw the miniscule tremble in his hands as the blond Logia unknowingly touched the spot where Akainu had impaled the fire-user. He saw how Ace looked to the Winter Spirit, almost as if he were seeking reassurance, pleading for an ally and potentially an escape.

There was no doubt in Jack's mind. Something terrible had happened. Something more than Marco let on or was blissfully unaware of. Something so horrific that Ace could not hide it, no matter how much he wanted to.

When Luffy held him he was anxious. When Sabo touched him he quivered. When he looked at Jack he tried not to show his plea for support even though his desperation and fear shone brightly in his flame-colored eyes. Not only that, but those eyes showed fragile trust, as if Ace half-expected to receive harsh insults or a blow instead of a warm embrace.

Could Ace be  _afraid_  of his younger brothers?


	27. Brothers, Bounties, and Bombshells

So far, Ace's plan seemed to be going well. No one had confronted him about being a deceptive fake yet at the very least. Being with his brothers was easier than the fire-user had previously thought it would be. Rather than be constantly bombarded by feelings of guilt, fear, and mistrust like he predicted, the self-doubt and internalized hatred came and left in waves. Ace could handle waves as long as they did not become a flood and drown him.

It helped that he was genuinely happy to be back with Jack, Luffy, and Sabo. He and his brothers were currently out in the sun, positioned near the railing so they would not get in the way of everyone. Luffy was chattering on and on about his adventures in the recent years, with Sabo chiming in on occasion.

It was calming. It was wonderful. Ace may even hesitantly claim it was almost perfect.

They were talking a lot so Ace did not have to— which might be his blond brother's intention— and the Summer Spirit had yet to write down a single word in his notebook. Nods, smiles, and other expressions were enough for now, and the fire-user was rather relieved. He did not want to have to 'speak' or share anything about his own… 'adventures' with his brothers yet, far more interested in what they had been up to since he—  _abandoned them_ — left.

His control was not infallible, however. Every so often one of them would touch him or move unexpectedly and he would twitch a little but neither Sabo nor Luffy appeared to notice. Jack did if his subtle glances Ace's way were of any indication but he did not call the black-haired Spirit out on it. The fire-user wished to speak with the Winter Spirit alone but currently felt no need to desert his present company, just happy that things were going well so far. Besides, if he tried to wander off with the Guardian people would ask questions. Ace  _hated_  questions.

Hypocritical as it was, he liked when his own questions were answered though. Sabo had explained what happened to him after the Celestial Dragon blew up his boat, how he lost his memory and joined the Revolutionaries, only regaining it after Marineford. He described how he met Jack in vague details, and Ace knew from the way he worded his story and how his blue eyes flicked to Luffy that the blond man remembered the Winter Spirit from their childhood… and the rubber pirate did not.

 _I wonder how Jack is dealing with that_ , Ace thought sadly.  _We need to talk later._

Jack himself stayed out of the conversation for the most part, looking on with pure happiness in his expression as Ace relaxed with his brothers. The Summer Spirit understood the white-haired Guardian's feelings. They were finally back together again.  _All four_  of them were, which he would have deemed impossible a few months ago. The fire-user's gaze drifted to Trafalgar Law, who was standing just separate from Luffy's crew with Baby Tooth on his hat.

Ace pondered whether Luffy, Jack, and Sabo knew that the surgeon in particular had told him that his blond brother was alive. He doubted it. Law did not seem like the type to reveal he had a softer side. Except around Baby Tooth. The Summer Spirit found it easy to smile as he watched the little Fairy keep the Heart Pirate company, chattering in his ear and pointing out things that interested her on the ship.

 _I have to remember to thank him. And her._  Ace reminded himself.  _They helped me escape._

Luffy randomly glomped Ace again and the fire-user did not recoil this time, having slowly gotten used to his brother sporadically hugging him over the past few hours. The first few instances had startled him but he had successfully smothered the instinct to violently flinch and break free after a couple more 'attacks'. He was doing fine— actually fine, not 'fine' like he was used to. It was a little unsettling, but Ace was not about to complain about it.

Ace met Sabo's calm blue eyes and rolled his own flame-colored orbs in an exaggerated manner. The Revolutionary muffled his laughter with a hand. He had changed during the past thirteen years, but in some ways he was also the same. Sabo still had his top hat and pipe. He still wore that stupid napkin thing. He acted much the same but also maybe a little more and also a little less mature than he once was, in different ways. He was also still a better brother than Ace, watching over Luffy with careful eyes even here among friends and allies.

Still, Ace could not help but feel that something was very different about his blond brother. There was a fire inside him now, nearly physical in nature. The Summer Spirit could almost see it. At least, his very tired eyes were conjuring up the image of flames whenever he looked at Sabo. His brain must be feeling poetic at the moment, or maybe he thought of fire whenever he studied the Revolutionary because that was how he had 'died'.

Or perhaps the scars on Sabo's face— caused by fire— were what was bothering him so greatly whenever he glanced at his brother. That was ridiculous though. The blaze that scarred Sabo had nothing to do with Ace. Then again, it was not guilt he felt when he saw the blond Revolutionary. It was  _wrongness_. The fire was wrong. It should not be there. For a moment, Ace considered reaching out and grabbing it—

"Hey, Jack!" a voice called.

Vista and Thatch came running over, halting before the four brothers. The Winter Spirit stared at them in confusion, surprised to be the one the Whitebeard Commanders were calling for. His eyes flicked to the chef for a second and shock flashed through his expression, disappearing before the pirates could spot it. The Guardian smiled disarmingly.

"Whatever it is, I swear I didn't do it." Jack said instantly.

Vista paused, taken aback. "What?"

"Oh, nothing." The Winter Spirit said innocently. "What's up?"

Thatch looked at the Guardian thoughtfully, an evil smirk spreading across his face. "You and I will be great friends." He purred, somehow sounding both eager and maniacal at the same time.

Vista gave the chef a wary glance before turning back to Jack. "Is your full name Jackson Overland Frost?"

The Guardian nodded, expression slightly guarded. "Yeah…?"

The swordsman slapped himself on the forehead. "We're idiots. Ace told us your first name, but we never bothered to ask for the rest of it or if 'Jack' was short for something. We could have found you a lot sooner if we had.  _Stupid_."

The last word was muttered under his breath. Ace felt a moment of shame at his apparent failure to pass on important information, but ignored the guilt and kept it from swamping him. He refocused in time to see Vista holding up a piece of paper in front of Jack's face.

It was a bounty poster, Jack's picture displayed prominently on the front. It was not an actual photograph of the Winter Spirit, but the artist had done a great job of sketching the Guardian's features. Ace wondered how the person could so accurately draw what Jack looked like, and realized Pitch must have informed them of the exact details of the Guardian's appearance. Or— knowing the Spirit of Fear— he had given nightmares about the Spirit of Winter to the poor human.

Jack's conflicted expression supported the theory that Pitch was involved. Ace reached out and laid a hand on his arm. The Guardian of Fun shot him a weak smile, accepting the silent support. The rest of the people present were too preoccupied by the reward to notice the exchange.

"250,000,000?" Sabo said. "It went up fifty million, Jack!"

"I can see that. But I didn't do anything for once." Jack protested. Then his blue eyes narrowed and something dark flashed through his expression before vanishing just as swiftly. "I can't decide if I'm supposed to be proud of the bounty or not." He admitted aloud.

"Proud!" Luffy proclaimed. "That's a big reward."

The Guardian stared at him for a minute and leaned back, slouching against the railing. "Okay then." He looked at the Summer Spirit. "What do you think, Ace?"

Ace smirked and mock-clapped daintily. Jack stuck his tongue out at him.

"I agree. That's a pretty impressive number." Vista commented. "What was your first bounty?"

"I'm pretty sure it was the 200 million." Jack said.

He sounded flippant and airy, but Ace heard a strained undertone to his voice. The Summer Spirit's brow furrowed. Before he could try to ask, Thatch spoke.

"Oh, really?" the chef said with a mischievous grin. "Cause I saw a certain person with a bounty of 150,000 Beri a couple months ago."

A few people chuckled. To Ace's surprise, Jack looked as if he tried to join them, only to fail. His wince was not one of embarrassment like they expected and any cheer on his features was swiftly chased away by a conflicted expression.

"Turned out the guy who set the number wanted people to go after me and get outclassed and killed." he said, no humor in his tone. "The Marines I fought woefully underestimated me."

There was no pride in his voice as he spoke and Ace glanced at him in worry. He began to wonder about the exact details of Jack's journey to find him, and felt a bubble of guilt. Didn't Pitch say something about the Guardian killing Marines a while ago? Was that actually true? He felt Jack's eyes on him and purposely looked away, spotting Marco near Whitebeard. It was obvious the Phoenix was following the conversation, his brow furrowing.

Thatch blanched. "Uh…"

"It's fine." Jack said, though it was obvious to most present that they had touched a nerve. "The new one's more accurate so it's cool. Fifty million more…" A scowl crossed his features. "I swear if that bastard is making people fear me again…" He muttered lowly.

Ace heard him. He  _really_  had to talk to Jack. It seemed he was not the only one keeping secrets and holding guilt for something. He should try to help the Guardian.

 _How am I supposed to help him when I can't even help myself?_  The cold part of him sneered.

The appearance of one of the Straw Hats thankfully— or maybe not so thankfully— distracted him. The pirate peered at the poster with interest. "Wow. That's more than enough to be a Super Rookie."

Jack snorted. "I'm too old to be a rookie."

"Oh really?" the long-nosed pirate asked, eyes narrowed. "How old are you?"

The Guardian kept a straight face. "Over three hundred."

The surrounding people— except Sabo, Koala, and Marco— laughed at the deadpan 'joke', including Luffy's crewmate. Ace merely smiled politely, glancing sidelong at the Straw Hat Pirate but refusing to meet his gaze. His heart sank and he desperately hoped the man would not greet him personally.

It was a good thing Ace was not expected to speak and could usually avoid being dragged into conversations if he evaded people's gazes. Being mute gave him a pass for not verbally responding to things. That was a wonderful thing for him, particularly with the present company. The fire-user knew he had met the Straw Hat Pirates. He knew he had spoken with them in Alabasta. Now, three years later and with a mess for a brain, he could not remember a single one of their names.

He had been hoping that Luffy would introduce his crew to the Whitebeard Pirates so Ace could secretly follow along, but that had not happened. The Summer Spirit had enough fuzzy memories to recall that the skeleton, cyborg, and dark-haired woman had not been a part of the crew when he last met the Straw Hats, but could not begin to recall anything about those he  _had_  met.

His best guess was that the green-haired man was the swordsman and the reindeer was the doctor. The orange-haired woman who was not Koala— at least Sabo had introduced his companion— might be the navigator but he was not sure. That had to mean the blond-haired man was the cook, right? And the guy with the long nose was… a sniper, maybe? Or was he the first mate? It had been more than three real years since Ace had seen them but because of the nightmares, it might as well have been decades.

_I was only with them for a couple days. They may be my brother's crew, but they were only there for a tiny period of my life. Is this what will happen after I've been immortal for a while? Will I forget about all of my friends from when I was human?_

Ace could feel his throat closing and his heartbeat growing more frantic. He kept his muscles lax, lips pressed together slightly. He was forced to lock his limbs to keep them from shaking, forcing his anxiety not to manifest itself outside of his body.

 _Don't start_ , Ace half-snarled, half-pleaded.  _I'm not freaking out here._ _ **Nothing**_ _ **is wrong**_ _, dammit!_

Ace had been doing so well. He thought he had succeeded at pretending to be normal. But, no. His stupid brain decided it was time to overreact to something and make him apparently get upset for no reason in front of everyone, including his brothers. He needed something to calm him down. A new subject, a distraction, a slap,  _anything_  would do.

Almost as if he had been summoned, Stefan bounded onto the deck, ignoring the yelps and calls of the pirates he nearly sent toppling in his wake. He spotted Ace immediately and trotted over to him, pausing to sniff Jack, Sabo, and Luffy before stopping in front of the Summer Spirit. Without asking for an invitation, Stefan settled comfortably in Ace's lap, tail wagging and smacking Sabo. Luffy giggled while the Revolutionary sighed. The fire-user himself stroked the dog rhythmically, breathing evening out.

_Thanks, buddy._

"Who is this?" Sabo asked, futilely trying to keep the dog's tail from hitting him.

Stefan stood up and whacked him directly in the nose before changing positions and settling down again. The move  _had_  to be intentional and the Revolutionary glowered at the canine. Stefan yawned at him, unimpressed. His gaze locked on Sabo's hat and the Revolutionary held onto it protectively. The dog huffed in amusement.

"That's Stefan, Whitebeard's dog." Jack said, then balked.

Vista blinked at him. "How did you know?"

"Ace told me before." The Guardian said smoothly, not missing a beat.

Luckily no one noticed anything odd about his response. Except Thatch, whose eyebrows drifted up his forehead.

"I almost forgot!" Luffy said, sitting up straight and grinning. "Sabo has your fruit now, Ace."

Sabo flinched violently, discomfort flashing across his features before he hid it behind a nervous grin. Ace studied him for a moment before reluctantly reaching for his notebook. He flipped to a blank page and wrote, feeling the Revolutionary's eyes on him the entire time.

He showed his message to Sabo.  _"Cool. I'm happy that you got the Mera Mera no Mi instead of some random bastard. Have you managed to awaken it?"_

Sabo shook his head, relaxing slightly. "Not yet. I've been practicing some new techniques though."

" _You'll figure it out eventually."_  Ace wrote with certainty.

He really was glad Sabo had eaten his Devil Fruit. If someone stranger had, Ace was not a good enough person to claim that he would have left them alone. Especially if it had fallen into the hands of an enemy. The Summer Spirit wondered if his brother had ever used some of his old, more well-known moves. He should try to help Sabo— if the Revolutionary needed or wanted him to, of course. Fire could be a tricky element.

Maybe the blaze he thought he had imagined in Sabo was actually his Devil Fruit. That made sense. It probably felt wrong to Ace because he was used to the Revolutionary without it so his presence felt weird with the additional flame. Or maybe he felt so agitated by its aura in his brother because it used to be his power.

Something nudged the back of his mind, a memory drifting at the edge of his thoughts while refusing to form. The Summer Spirit frowned to himself, putting a hand to his head as he tried to gather the pieces.

"Sabo's been doing pretty good." Jack's voice interrupted his attempts. "He still sucks at dodging though."

He casually flung a snowball at the Logia, who spluttered as it burst into crystals against his face. Luffy laughed, and Ace sniggered silently. Sabo's eye twitched.

" _Jack…_ "

The playful Guardian smiled cheekily at the Revolutionary. "See? He's terrible."

"Am not. You cheat." Sabo said childishly. Jack had that effect on people.

The blond Straw Hat wandered over, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. "I thought you would have learned to anticipate sneak attacks in the fifty-five times he ambushed you but I guess not." He said dryly.

The Revolutionary huffed. "No one asked you, Sanji."

Sanji. That was the blond one's name. He was the cook. Probably?

Why couldn't Luffy just tell people these things? Maybe Ace could get away with asking Jack later…

"Hey, Ace!" his little brother said suddenly, radiating excitement. "I have an idea."

He got into Ace's personal space, and the fire-user was hard-pressed not to push him back. Somehow he managed to hide his discomfort, summoning an encouraging smile.

Luffy grinned back. "How about we spar?"

_Flames rained down from the sky, sending Marines flailing and shrieking into the ocean as they burned alive._

_Sabo sobbed helplessly as the inferno consumed his coat in an instance, eager to do the same to his flesh._

_The hellish firestorm turned the ship into charcoal, pieces ablaze even as they sank into the sea, sealing her occupants' fates._

_Fire hungrily devoured Luffy's thin frame as he screamed in agony, leaving behind nothing but ashes._

Ace nearly snapped the pen in half as he wrote.  _"_ _ **No.**_ _"_

Even though he was unable to speak the words aloud, everyone except Luffy noticed the anger in his furious denial. The Summer Spirit did not intend to become upset, but the mixture of memories and old nightmares haunted him, solidifying his decision the moment the rubber pirate made his request. It was strange. Ace thought he would be afraid of not being able to fight at all, of having to face his brother and performing miserably due to his conditioned inability to raise a hand against his loved ones.

Instead another fear rose to rip Ace's control away. He would not fight Luffy. He  _could not_  fight Luffy. Not because he feared what the Straw Hat Captain might do to him, but what the Summer Spirit might do to his little brother. Ace was dangerous. His fire was dangerous. His so-called 'control' over his power was laughably lacking. The fire-user could not be trusted to spar with his brother— with anyone— without issues. He had little doubt that he would freak out somewhere, and Luffy would get hurt or die.

Luffy did not understand. He did not see it. Or maybe he did not care.

"But,  _Aaaaaaccccceeeee_." Luffy said, pouting. "I want to show you how strong I've gotten."

Ace looked right at his brother and shook his head once, firmly. The rubber pirate finally seemed to realize how serious the fire-user was about this. He deflated slightly, making Ace berate himself for being so cruel.

"Okay. Maybe later then." Luffy said with a shrug.

 _How about_ _ **never**_ , Ace thought, fists clenching so his fingernails dug into his palms.

Sabo gave a small grunt, wincing as he put a hand to his forehead. Koala and the reindeer doctor— Chippy?— were at his side in an instant. The Revolutionary waved them off, still rubbing his head.

"I'm fine." Sabo said faintly. "I just got dizzy for a second there."

"Maybe you should go to the infirmary with Ace." Marco said, joining the conversation at last. "Bay needs to check him over again, yoi."

Ace scowled.

"I don't need to go to the infirmary." Sabo protested. "I'm completely fine."

"Hm." Marco said noncommittedly.

Ace gave the Phoenix a dirty look, which the blond man met with a dry one of his own.

"You know  _you_  have to go, yoi." He said with slight amusement. "Unless you want Bay to go on a warpath."

Ace scoffed and stood up, with his brothers following suite. Apparently he was going to have an audience with him. They were going to see and hear about everything wrong with their brother, just like Ace did not want them to.

_Great._

"Actually, how about you go with Izo to the library, Sabo?" Marco offered suddenly. "There's quite a few books about Logia Devil Fruits there. Maybe you'll find something to help you, yoi."

Sabo looked taken aback. "Really? Thank you."

"That sounds boring to me." Luffy said predictably. "I really wanted to spar." He muttered in a low voice.

Ace resisted the desire to glower at his little brother. With his luck, doing so would cause Luffy to burst into flames.

 _He doesn't know what he's demanding_ , he reminded himself.

"Could you show me around your ship then?" Thatch asked, stepping up beside Sanji and looking at him. "You're the cook, right? Can I have a look at your domain?" He gave a cheerful grin.

The blond pirate shrugged. "Sure."

"I'll come too." Luffy decided, eyes gleaming. "I'll show you where all the meat is."

"You're not emptying our stocks again." Sanji warned.

The Straw Hat Captain pursed his lips, looking sideways. "I wasn't going to."

They made to leave, and a terrible panic gripped Ace's heart. He was moving before he could stop himself, wrapping his arms around his two little brothers and giving them a tight squeeze. He could tell both were startled by his sudden display of affection, but both returned the embrace briefly. As quickly as the illogical stress came, it left, and Ace instantly pulled away from them, arms crossed over his chest. Luffy looked confused by his switching mood but Sabo's eyes grew sad— or were they pitying?

_I messed up. Dammit._

"…See you in a bit." Was all the Revolutionary said.

Ace felt guiltily relieved as the Whitebeard Pirates separated him from his two younger brothers, giving him some much-needed space. Marco and Jack stayed with him, calm expressions transforming into near-identical protective ones. Once, Ace might have found their symmetry funny. At the moment he just felt tired, as if he had just run a marathon across the Grand Line. Stefan also lingered at his side, nudging his hand with his nose and whining softly. The fire-user petted him gently.

"Are you doing okay?" the Phoenix asked quietly.

Ace looked at Jack, meeting his blue eyes. The Guardian clearly knew he was putting up a façade for Luffy and Sabo. In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid and naïve of the fire-user to think he could hide his distress and other flaws from the Winter Spirit. But somehow, Jack's expression only held understanding and gentleness, not the worry, sadness, and pity others had when they looked at the broken Summer Spirit. Something inside Ace crumbled and he could barely hold his notebook still to write.

" _I don't remember any of the Straw Hats' names."_

Marco's eyes widened slightly at the admission, while the Guardian nodded firmly.

"Zoro is the green-haired swordsman. Nami is the orange-haired navigator. Usopp is the long-nosed sniper. Sanji is the blond cook. Chopper is the reindeer doctor. Robin is the black-haired archaeologist. Franky is the blue-haired shipwright. And Brook is the skeleton musician. Then there's Law, the Heart Pirate's Captain and surgeon, and Koala, the Revolutionary." He spoke softly and precisely, not even hesitating to give Ace an answer.

The fire-user gave him a watery smile in return even as he cursed himself for his weakness.  _"I remembered Law. He told me Sabo was alive."_

Marco exhaled slowly. "Okay. I did not know you were having problems, yoi." He hesitated. "If you wish it, we could figure out a way for you to alert us when… things are becoming too much."

He may have been hinting that he wanted to know the reason for Ace's anger when Luffy asked him to spar, but the fire-user was unwilling to share.

" _Okay."_  He wrote instead.

He could feel Jack's solemn— thankfully not pitying— eyes on him.

"Let's go see what Bay needs this time." Marco said lightly.

Ace nodded slightly and let them lead him away.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Twenty minutes later, impatience was making Ace as twitchy as Luffy on a bad day as he sat on a bed in the infirmary. He wiggled his foot back and forth and tapped his fingers on his leg, otherwise trying to keep as still as possible as Bay checked him over. The doctor seemed more amused than annoyed with his antics, not needing to verbally convey that she understood her patient's irritation with the checkups as she looked him over as quickly— but thoroughly— as she could.

Ace looked past Bay as she went through the usual routine, first checking his general health, then his stitched wounds, and finally his throat. Marco and Jack surveyed the proceedings from nearby. The Summer Spirit could hear the Phoenix conversing quietly with the Guardian of Fun, telling him of Ace's past ailments in great detail.

The subject of said conversation kind of wished that the Commander would keep the grisly details from the Winter Spirit, but knew that Jack deserved to know everything. The Guardian listened attentively, expression rather serene, but would occasionally turn to smirk slyly at the fire-user in an attempt to distract him. He knew Ace always hated the medical bay.

At least the fire-user found the visit to be more boring than terrifying this time, unlike like all the other times he had come here since returning. Perhaps Jack's presence was already helping a bit. After all, the Guardian would never allow any harm to come to Ace.

Ace saw Bay's expression shift as she checked his throat with a small light and mirror. The worrisome look disappeared behind a professional façade and she leaned back, taking the tools out of his mouth. The fire-user shifted his weight, ready to depart, only for her to stop him with a stern glare.

"We're not done. Stay." Bay commanded, likely sensing Ace was about to bolt from the room. "I'm going to look again, but I need you to say 'Aaaahhhh' when I tell you to, okay?"

Ace nodded obediently, just wanting the whole process to be done with. He opened his mouth, looking up past Bay again as she stuck the tools down his throat. It was not exactly painful, but it was uncomfortable, and he had to resist the urge to wiggle around or yank the instruments out of his jaw. When she commanded it, he made the sound. Or at least, he tried to.

He felt a slight tension in his throat but heard only the slight whisper of air as it passed through his vocals. And although he did not want to focus on the area too much because of the utensils in them, he swore that the light vibrations that sometimes accompanied speech were worryingly absent. The Summer Spirit wanted to reach up and touch his neck to see if he could feel anything, but that would cause him to get in Bay's way so he kept his hands down at his sides.

Ace's fingers curled around the edge of the bed as Bay shifted the mirror and light, making sure to keep still. Just as he was about to gag or shove her away, the doctor withdrew. Ace happily closed his mouth and swallowed a few times, letting his expression show his disgust. His exaggerated irritation dwindled away when Bay did not faux berate him for his obvious distaste.

The doctor clicked off the light and set the tools gently down, glancing at the other occupants of the room, both of which watched her with rapt attention. She turned back to Ace, and the fire-user saw sympathy in her eyes.

"Your larynx is still strained and raw, and your vocal cords are not properly acting as they should." Bay said. Her stiff tone suggested that she was struggling to keep some type of emotion in her voice rather than speaking flatly. "The normal time for recovery due to a strained voice box is two to three days for mild cases. Severe cases take about two to three weeks. You've been unable to speak for over a month, and the noises you have been able to make have become noticeably fainter. Since your larynx has not mended in the slightest— instead getting  _more_  irritated— and your voice has not returned…"

She paused, taking a deep breath. "…I'm sorry, but you'll likely never speak again."

It was like Ace had been thrown into a river. Icy water rose over his head, chilling him to his bones and leaving him breathless. He heard the words but could not understand them, the meaning behind the solemn statement left lost in his mind. Marco's low gasp was almost enough to drag Ace out of his blissful confusion, but instead it wonderfully forced him to retreat, letting him sink into a feeling of false tranquility.

Numbness. It was a feeling Ace was very used to. It separated him from reality, providing an illusion of calm to show to the outside world while allowing him to quietly think without letting those thoughts overwhelm him. The path of numbness and detachment was the easy way out. He knew that. But he was not about to force it to leave. The emotions that would come rushing forth were worse than feeling nothing.

He did not want to feel  _anything_  right now.

A cold hand gripped his own, brutality reforming his connection with the world. Ace's grey vision acknowledged colors once again, focusing on icy blue orbs. Jack looked calm. Very calm. Was he actually calm, or was he just pretending to be, like Ace?

"… _I'm sorry, but you'll likely never speak again."_

The realization he had been trying to avoid struck him like Akainu's fist through his chest, a hand wrapping around his heart and squeezing it painfully. His throat strained— No sound at all this time. There was no sound. There would never be sound— and he felt himself losing control. He locked his muscles to keep his body from quivering. He needed Bay and Marco to leave. He did not want them to see this. However, he was incapable of even thinking about writing his request. But it was not like he could tell them. It was not like he could  _talk_.

He was never going to be able to talk again. He was mute for the rest of his long _immortal life_.

Ace looked down at his knees, shoulders lurching slightly as he attempted to salvage his unraveling control. Why did he let everything affect him like this? Why was he so damn weak? He was supposed to be strong and stable, not an emotional baby that cried about everything.

 _It's not that bad. I've had worse things happen. I should be grateful there weren't more complications._  It was quickly becoming harder to hold his turbulent emotions in check.  _Hide it. Keep it inside._

Jack's cold hand slid away from his. Ace distantly heard voices, familiar and maybe angry. Had he done something wrong again? Were they mad at him?

_I'm sorry._

"… _I'm sorry, but you'll likely never speak again."_

Ace was so stupid. He had foolishly thought he was getting better. He had assumed he was healing, that it was only a matter of time before his voice returned to him. Even though he had considered that he might be permanently mute every once in a long while, in the back of his mind he had always believed he would regain his ability to speak.

Now that hope had been trampled into dust. Even worse, Bay would not give such a diagnosis after a single bad examination. She had probably suspected this outcome for a while, keeping it from him until she was absolutely sure.

_I thought I'd get better. I thought I'd get my voice back. But I'm not. I'm mute. Forever._

It hurt. It hurt so much.

 _Keep it inside._  Ace ordered himself shakily.  _Don't show anything._

There were footsteps, followed by the sound of a shutting door. Jack appeared in front of Ace again, sitting on the bed beside the one he sat on. The Guardian leaned forward, grasping both of the fire-user's hands this time. His hands felt warm this time. Ace did not want to think about what that said about him. He wasn't so pathetic that bad news could cause him to go into shock, right?

"Bay and Marco left. It's just you and me here." Jack said quietly.

Ace knew Jack was trying to tell him it was safe. The Summer Spirit could break down, or start throwing things across the room, or punch the wall, or burst into tears and the Guardian would not judge him. The fire-user knew that. But at the same time he did not want to let the turmoil out. Letting it out would make it real, which meant Bay's conclusion was the truth. Ace shook his head violently, his orange hat nearly falling from his head.

Jack moved back to his position beside Ace, arm wrapped around the Summer Spirit's shoulders. "I won't say things are okay." He said softly. "I know you're shocked, and hurt, and really the  _opposite_  of okay. I also won't say things will get better, because I know vague hopes for the future won't help you in right now."

He pulled Ace gently, and the fire-user let himself be shifted to lean against the Guardian's side. Jack flipped his hat off his head and brushed his hair away from his face. "I just want you to know I'm here for you, and you don't need to hide  _anything_  from me— or  _for_  me. I love you and care about you and nothing you feel or do will burden me. You are my little brother and I'm going to be there for you and support you no matter what you're feeling. You don't have to hold your emotions in. Just let it out, Ace."

The fire-user stared straight ahead, teeth clenched and eyes glassy but mostly dry. Then the last remnants of his mask crumbled into dust and he melted into a sobbing wreck in Jack's arms. The Guardian held him, not hushing him or murmuring useless condolences, all while keeping an eye on the closed door and  _daring_  anyone to try to come in.

"I am here for you, through everything. You don't have to pretend in front of me." Jack whispered. "But I promise we'll get through this, and adapt, and figure everything out. Together."

Ace kept crying, somehow not ashamed of his complete nervous breakdown. If anyone else were with him, he would be overcome by humiliation and horror due to the vulnerability he was displaying. But this was Jack. The Guardian of Fun would never hurt him, judge him, or pity him. No matter how pathetic the fire-user got, he would stick with him and love him anyway, even if Ace did not deserve that care. He would not give him worthless reassurances either. Jack would just support him and help him without expectations or restraint, and that acknowledgement of such unconditional friendship and dedication made Ace weep harder.

He knew it would not last, but in this moment Ace did not have to be strong or hide.

Sobbing in a brother's arms had never felt so freeing.

ROTGOPROTGOP

It had been a long time since Jack saw Ace break down like this. The last occasion had been shortly after Sabo's apparent death. To this day he vividly remembered the incident. The black-haired nearly eleven year-old had been hunting in the forest like usual, only to drop his trusty pipe and throw himself into the Guardian's arms with no prior warning, all while hysterically sobbing that his brother was gone.

Ace was strong. He always had been and always would be. But he was not untouchable. He was not so unhuman that he could forever hold back the emotions he would stiffly call 'weak', emotions he denied because being 'weak' was the one thing he was not allowed to be in his mind.

Marco was right. Ace had changed. Or more accurately, all the insecurities and doubts he had during his life of questioning his existence had finally caught up to him, forced into his waking mind by Pitch and the nightmares he caused. But the fire-user was not broken. He was not something that needed to be looked down upon with melancholy. Ace would hate that. He still hated it, but now the temper that would let the world know how much he despised well-meaning but misplaced sorrow had been smothered by feelings of worthlessness that made him question the motives of all around him.

Jack knew Ace. He had raised him. The Guardian was too young mentally to call himself a parent, but he was Ace's caretaker much like the fire-user had been Luffy's. The fears, mistrust, and emotions that weighed down so heavily on his little brother had always been there, but it was only because of Pitch's sadistic manipulations that they had grown so greatly out of control. Not to mention that the fire-user's company since the ordeal had unintentionally made things worse.

The Winter Spirit was not one to criticize people, but he admitted he felt a little angry at the Whitebeard Pirates. It was not their fault that Ace had not trusted them enough to reveal he was a Spirit, but that was not Jack's main issue with the fire-user's old crew. They had not meant to do it— and if it turned out they did, the Guardian would turn them into ice sculptures— but Jack knew just from speaking to a few of them that they awaited the time the 'Old Ace' would come back. Even worse,  _Ace_  saw it too.

Most of the Whitebeard Pirates probably did not even know they were thinking such things, but at the back of their minds they waited for Ace's 'sickness' to be over, for a day when he 'returned' with his unbreakable confidence and cocky grin. They did not subconsciously understand that Ace was not a broken toy that could be fixed with glue, the pieces fitting back together in a way that made it seem like it had never been damaged at all.

Jack was no expert, but had enough knowledge to understand it did not work like that. Nor could he simply rewind time and make it so the fire-user was never captured, tortured, and irreversibly changed. There would be no 'end' to the aftermath of Ace's capture, especially considering the Summer Spirit was permanently silenced.

The Guardian knew Ace, and loved Ace for Ace, so he understood this. Instead of expecting the fire-user to magically heal his mind to its previous state, he would walk forward firmly, at Ace's side, keeping pace with him as they moved on. He would help him until the Summer Spirit was not 'better' or 'whole again', but mended.

The main hurdle between them and that goal would be Ace's enhanced issues— issues that stemmed from his self-hatred and doubt. To ensure Ace recovered, Jack was going have to chip away at that deep-rooted internal loathing. To do that, he would have to do something he should have the first time he raised the Summer Spirit.

Ace always wondered whether he should be born. He never had much self-worth. He always thought he would be betrayed and would deserve it when the treason inevitably came. He saw himself as a monster that should not exist, and only became so determined to stay alive because others wanted him to. Jack knew this, but had been helpless to stop his believer from feeling that way, unable to convince him that his way of viewing himself was false.

It was true that Ace needed to deal with his problems in order to heal, but vanquishing external issues would not erase the greatest source of his troubles. To become better, the fire-user had to fight the conflict within.

That was why this time, Jack was not going to be satisfied with the fire-user questioning his existence and merely surviving for others' sakes. He was also not going to let him simmer in deepening doubts, falling further and further into despair. This time, the Guardian was going to take a more proactive— but subtle— approach to changing Ace's mind about himself.

He was going to make Ace  _live_.


	28. Speak Up

"We need to land."

North spoke the words in a soft voice, one he rarely used. It was the tone he reserved for nervous children, somber events, and upset friends, and Tooth felt a bolt of indignation at the sound of it. The Guardian of Memories knew the tone was for her.

She looked down at the island below them and her gaze drifted to the easily visible town near the shore. It looked like a nice enough place, habitable and peaceful, though they were too far up to see any people on the streets. No Marines or pirates were trying to shoot them out of the sky either, so that was a plus. However, the thought of approaching... It made her fingers curl around the edge of the sleigh and she shook her head, speaking stiffly.

"I don't think that's necessary."

The Guardian of Wonder sighed. "Tooth, I know you're upset—"

"I'm not upset. I just don't think landing here is a good idea." Tooth said.

North exchanged a helpless look with Bunny. The Fairy briefly wondered if the apocalypse was happening. Then their visages shifted, growing almost simultaneously firm.

"We're landing." The Guardian of Wonder stated, and the sleigh descended.

Tooth wanted to protest but the sternness on North's face told her it was useless to argue. Instead she tensed as they landed gracefully on the ground outside of the town, wringing her hands together and looking around uncomfortably. She did not want to run into any humans, though she supposed that desire was laughably impossible now. The Guardians had no other way to gather information on this world except through its people, and as much as she did not want a repeat of the last town they landed in—

The Guardian of Memories squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately not to picture the bounty hunter's death again. A furry paw took her hand and she opened her eyes, meeting Bunny's solemn gaze.

"I'm fine." She said instantly.

"Yer not." The Pooka argued.

"I agree." North said. "So I have idea. We are going to sit here until you talk." To emphasize his statement, he leaned back and crossed his arms, eyebrow raised like he was dealing with a naughty child.

Tooth stared. "Excuse me?" she asked weakly.

North huffed. "You've been distracted. You do not want to talk or see humans, ever since that man's death." His blue eyes grew saddened. "I know it is not first death you have seen. Why has it bothered you so greatly?"

_The bounty hunter died because we were there. He almost killed Bunny, but a human still died because of us._

Tooth did not speak the words aloud. The thought alone was enough to ruffle her feathers and make her throat tighten. She knew she should not feel guilty. The bounty hunter had intended to kill the Guardians— had nearly shot  _Bunny_  in the head. But he had still been  _human_.

He could have had a family. He could have been hunting them because he was trying to provide for that family. There was no way for the Fairy to know, and the lack of information was making her feel unsettled and perhaps needlessly remorseful. Even if it turned out the bounty hunter was the worst type of human, who murdered because he liked it and cared only about money, she would still feel sorry.

A human was killed because of them or possibly in place of them. The sniper may have been aiming for her or Bunny, only to miss and strike the bounty hunter. Tooth knew she should not prioritize an enemy's life so much, but the man had still been a person. Did he leave anyone behind? Would he be missed? Did anyone care?

Tooth was uncertain, but she was sure that she wanted to avoid getting more humans involved. What if an actual innocent got caught in the crossfire during another attack on the Guardians? Many Marines and bounty hunters would have no qualms about attempting to arrest 'criminals' in a packed city street. If a civilian— or worse, a  _child_ — got hurt because of them, the Fairy would never forgive herself.

So she requested that they stay away from civilization, despite towns and cities being their only sources of information. It seemed that North and Bunny disagreed with her choice, however. That did not mean Tooth wanted to stick around and share her reasons.

"I need some time alone." The Guardian of Memories said stiffly.

She took off before they could protest.

Avoiding the town like it was quarantined, Tooth headed to the beach past the village outskirts. The water was a brilliant, almost unnatural blue, close to the color of some of her feathers. If she were in a happier state of mind, she would have been awed at the sight, taking in its beauty with bated breath.

Instead she sat down beside the water, wings pressed against her back and face falling into a dejected expression. Tooth watched the water shift and swirl, light sparkling amongst the waves like tiny, dancing stars, and her melancholy deepened. The ocean looked so different here. It  _was_  different. This was not Earth. It was a completely different world.

_I… miss home._

She missed the Tooth Palace. She missed the Mini Fairies. She missed collecting teeth and seeing the memories of children placed carefully within. But most of all, she missed the relative calmness of Earth. There, she was not being hunted. There, Pitch was not such a huge threat. There, the world was smaller, more manageable, and thing she sought did not seem so far out of reach.

Tooth sighed and pressed her hands to her face, feeling drained. She hoped the reason for her unhappiness was nostalgia, and not a reduction of believers. Losing power was the last thing the Guardians needed at the moment. She heard the crunch of sand beneath boots but did not look up, instead scowling at the sea.

"I still don't want to talk, North." She said coolly.

The man beside her remained silent for a long minute. Then he spoke.

"You're alive."

The words were spoken in a low, raspy croak, like the speaker had not talked in a while, and the voice was definitely  _not North's_.

Tooth sprang to her feet, unsheathing her swords in the same motion, and found herself face to face with an intimidating-looking man. Or he would have been intimidating, if not for the absolute relief and desperation shining in his teary eyes. The Guardian of Memories paused, still in a defensive stance, and took in the man's features in more detail.

The first thing she noticed— as mean as it was— was that he was bald spot atop his head, with long light pink hair around the area and a spider tattoo on his forehead. He wore a dark grey coat with ruffled edges over a light colored shirt, and black pants. Around his neck he had a red tie, and he wore two swords.

Overall, his attire screamed 'pirate', a fact that kept Tooth from backing down while ironically also preventing her from attacking as well. If the man was a Marine, the Guardian would have knocked him out and run in an instant but this man was a pirate, which meant he could be a friend of Ace's. It was a little unsettling that she trusted criminals on sight more than government officials in this world.

The man did not come closer, continuing to stare like he could not believe Tooth was there. Then he began to tremble, jaw clenched and eyes glassy.

"Y-You're alive." He repeated. "S-Someone else is alive."

He sounded overjoyed and heartbroken, sincerely happy to find someone while unable to fully have faith that he truly had. His arms twitched like he wanted to hug her to ensure she was not a hallucination, but refrained, knowing a stranger would not take an embrace well. Despite her reservations, Tooth felt sympathy stir in her chest for him. She lowered her blades slightly.

"Yes. My friends and I just arrived here." She might as well inform him that she had allies nearby if he tried to attack her. Then his words registered, and Tooth stiffened. "What do you mean ' _Someone else is alive?_ '"

Fear overcame the man's visage and his eyes darted about, wide with terror. "We— We have to get out of here! Do you have a ship? They destroyed mine. We have to escape before they come back!"

"Before  _who_  comes back?" Tooth demanded.

There was the sound of an explosion, followed by a familiar shriek. The pirate flinched, stepping back towards the ocean. Tooth was already running for the woods, her thoughts spinning out of control. The little facts she noticed suddenly made so much terrible sense. The lack of people in the streets. The silence overlaying the town. The pirate's terror, relief, and claims of being alone.

Nightmares and Fearling were  _here_.

To his credit, the pirate ran after her as she headed into danger, arm outstretched as if to stop her. "Don't! You can't fight them!" he pleaded.

Tooth barely paused. "Yes, I can. They don't scare me." She growled.

She rushed into the clearing where the sleigh was located with a yell, slicing through three Nightmares as she sprang into the battle. Her guess had indeed been correct. Nightmares and Fearlings filled the clearing like wolves, attacking the two other Guardians with an eager fury. If they sought to intimidate their enemies, they were failing greatly.

North shot her a savage grin as he stabbed a Fearling in the heart, moving with a speed that contradicted his size and mowing through the horde enthusiastically. Bunny was implementing his boomerangs and his egg-bombs, taking out the monsters further out. Both Guardians lingered near the sleigh— Pitch's forces' target?— cutting down and scattering their foes with grim determination.

Tooth fought through the mob and joined them, the pirate following suit. He too was wielding a sword, and although his movements were shaky he managed to demolish most Nightmares in a few hits. The Guardian of Memories could see anger overtaking the fear in his expression, a vengeful fury lighting in his gaze. He could not defeat Fearlings though, only bat them away, tears forming in his eyes whenever he faced one of the vile monsters.

 _He lost people to them. His crew?_  She guessed, before pushing the thought aside.

A Fearling latched onto the sleigh but Bunny kicked it away, cursing as it took a chunk of wood with it. Tooth wondered if Pitch was trying to strand them or the Guardians' luck had finally run out. She stabbed a Nightmare in the eye, bisected a Fearling, and slashed another with her wings. Three more Nightmares took its place and one headbutted her, making her collide with the sleigh. The Fairy winced as her wings were smashed into the vehicle but shoved back, beheading the creature.

More and more Nightmares and Fearlings crept out of the shadows of the trees, filling the air and making it appear that it was night. They closed in slowly but surely, almost as if they were confident in their victory, and next to Tooth the pink-haired pirate began to shake. Bunny yelped as one snapped at his paw, stabbing it in the face with his boomerang with enough force to make its head shatter into sand.

The pirate was fighting with two swords now, a normal and oversized katana if Tooth was not mistaken. Any worries of personal space were shoved aside as the Guardians and human pressed together, desperately keeping the monsters away from their only means off the island.

North stabbed another Nightmare, only for a Fearling to grab him while his swords were occupied. The Cossack was swung into the broken part of the sleigh, and Tooth heard him bellow in pain. She nearly got whiplash as she snapped her head to look at him, horrified by the streak of red on his bicep.

North impaled the guilty Fearling with his sword and stumbled back onto his feet, left arm limp at his side. Pain flickered across his expression. Then he gritted his teeth, holding the sword in his right hand in a ready position. The shadows morphed and more Fearlings crept from them, drifting towards the Guardians and human like demonic spirits.

Tooth felt the pirate lingering at her side, just able to see him quivering as the monsters approached. His fear was becoming contagious, making her own nervousness rise. Such odds would normally be nothing for the Spirits, but they were without their heavy hitters this time around. Sandy was back on Earth and Jack was lost in this world somewhere. Without them, the remaining Guardians only had their boomerangs, swords, and bombs, nothing capable of taking out huge swarms of enemies at once.

The Nightmares and Fearlings moved steadily closer, boxing them in, replacing their fallen near-instantaneously. It was too much. There were too many. They were going to be overwhelmed—

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Three Fearlings went down, followed by four more, all in the span of a second. The Nightmares, Fearlings, Guardians, and pirate all stared at the fallen creatures in stunned silence as they melted into shadow.

Then the monsters scattered.

Tooth heard more gunshots and instinctively ducked, allowing a Nightmare to tackle her into the sleigh. Her head hit the wood with a loud  _thunk_  and her vision swam. She tried to sit up but the Nightmare tackled her, pinning her down. Before the creature could bite her, its head exploded, the bullet passing completely through its sandy skull. The gritty substance rained down on Tooth and she pressed her lips together, careful to keep it from going into her mouth. The Guardian of Memories hurriedly brushed the black sand off her but she could already feel herself growing weak.

Her limbs grew heavy and her eyes fluttered as coldness trickled through her body. Her mind was going foggy, her very thoughts slowing, and she realized she was falling asleep. She distantly heard more gunshots, then loud shouts, and forced her eyes open, praying her friends were not among those being targeted. An unfamiliar, but somehow familiar red blur filled her vision, and she felt a calloused hand grip her own.

It was the man from the town where the bounty hunter had died. The one with the red hair. Was he a bounty hunter too? Had he chased them all the way here? He had a sword, but it was sheathed so they must be out of danger, right? Tooth hoped Bunny and North were not hurt. Why else would they let him near her?

Though she supposed the red-haired man did not seem to be mean. He looked a little angry, but also sad and protective. Tooth decided she liked him. He had a kind face. She blinked lethargically, breathing shallow, and tried to hold the man's eyes. His mouth was moving. If she focused, she might just be able to hear him…

"—thiana. We're friends. Don't worry, you three are safe now. Your friends are okay."

Based on the movements of his lips he may have repeated the words again, perhaps uncertain that Tooth had heard him. She wished she could say she did, and that her statement made her feel relieved even though she had no reason to believe him, but the black sand was draining her strength.

The Guardian of Memories exhaled, feeling the sand drag her to sleep, but she was not really scared. The man said North and Bunny were safe, so they must be. Still, he was a stranger. He could be lying, she supposed. She would have to make sure when she woke up…

Tooth's eyes slipped closed, and with the gentleness of a sunset, everything went black.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Somehow, Ace held himself together. Other than his initial breakdown after Bay's diagnosis, he kept himself in check and his turbulent emotions under wraps. It was not for himself. It was never for himself. He never had the self-respect to be strong for his own wellbeing. But for once, he had the people— the motivation— to function enough to pass for a normal human.

Two things kept Ace from locking himself in a room and sinking back into depression: Sabo and Luffy, and Jack. And yes, they did only count as two reasons, for both had different ways of motivating the fire-user into clambering out of the quicksand he was sinking into and go interact with people.

Ace predicted his younger brothers would come searching if he hid from them, and showing how broken he was inside was counterproductive to his mission of being a good big brother. The thought of them looking for him and seeing him as a sobbing, shattered mess was enough to make him brush away all of his signs of distress and slam his insecurities back behind a locked door. Luffy and Sabo would have no way of knowing about their indirect helpfulness, of course. Not if Ace had anything to say about it.

Then there was Jack. The Guardian was much more direct in his assistance. Firstly, he downright refused to leave Ace wallowing in self-pity. Secondly, he did not once look at the fire-user with judging, overly sympathetic, or condescending eyes. Thirdly, he put his foot down and nudged— more like shoved— Ace out the door, poking and prodding until the Summer Spirit got on his feet to go out and pretend to be human.

The weak part of Ace— which would have taken control if not for his brothers' presences— wanted nothing more than to find a secluded corner to mourn in, but it was quickly smothered by the fire-user's desperate desire to seem normal around his siblings. Ace was uncertain whether he had found the internal strength to struggle out of his slump for the moment, or if he had stumbled back to lucidity out of fear of how Sabo and Luffy might react if he did otherwise.

Either way, Ace was up and about and frailly stable for the three days following the incident in the infirmary. He hung out with his brothers— not bringing up his permanent inability to speak— smiled or nodded greetings to the pirates he passed, and did not feel like he was a second away from crumbling again. Jack been unhappy that Ace had decided to hide the news of his permanent muteness from his brothers for now. Though he had relented when the fire-user explained he did not feel like opening that can of worms and ruining the mood.

It helped that Luffy and Sabo slept on the Thousand Sunny each night, giving Ace some much-needed time to recuperate. The fire-user had been given back his old room so he did not need to return to the infirmary for privacy, granting him a place that was  _his_  to recharge. Jack would always accompany him, and Marco and a few others would drop in to visit, but overall they let him be when he was in his latest sanctuary. Ace could tell the Whitebeard Pirates trusted the Winter Spirit to watch over him, and although a few of them— specifically Marco and Thatch— were suspicious about Jack's connection to the fire-user, they did not demand answers. Yet.

And so, even with his brothers' near-constant presence and the stress of Bay's diagnosis, Ace felt rather at ease. Perhaps it was all of those little things that allowed the fire-user to remain stable and relatively calm. Even when his thoughts were allowed to drift towards what he had been told, the Summer Spirit stayed clearheaded. Though in reality, there was no question in his mind that Jack was mostly to thank for that.

Before pushing Ace back into the open, he and Jack had talked. The Summer Spirit had shared nearly everything that had happened to him with the Guardian of Fun, writing about his fears and the events that had taken place until his fingers hurt and his first few pens ran out of ink. The Winter Spirit had taken it rather well, not showering Ace with apologies and useless pity.

In turn, Jack had told him about his own adventures in detail. Ace was relieved to hear that the Guardian had avoided killing any humans. He knew Jack would be upset about that, unlike the fire-user. Indeed, Ace had even confided about his ruthless destruction of the Marine ship, and the Winter Spirit had not judged him for it, despite their differing values when dealing with human life.

Ace was so glad Jack did not see him as a monster for killing those men. But even with all his trust in the Guardian, even with all that support and understanding from the Winter Spirit, the fire-user did not inform him of one small detail of his life while they were separated. He felt terrible about it, but Ace could not bring himself to share his theory that Kozmotis was awakening in Pitch Black.

When Ace had told Jack about Pitch's taunts, the Winter Spirit's eyes had glinted with anger. When he wrote about the Nightmare King's brutal extraction of some of the black sand, Jack's expression had clouded with rage. When the Guardian himself talked about how Pitch had made people fear him and had intended for Jack to kill humans that attacked him, his voice was low with fury.

Ace wanted to tell Jack about his stupid, baseless, insane theory, but could not. Because he knew that was the one thing the Guardian would not be so understanding about. It did not help that Ace himself had doubts, and wondered if he was just seeing things he wanted to. He wished to tell Jack about his dumb idea, but felt he needed more proof first. So he kept quiet. That was not a difficult thing for him to do nowadays.

Any despair at the reminder of his muteness was chased away when Jack poked Ace's side and grinned at him, pointing at Luffy. The Straw Hat Captain was whizzing through the halls of the Moby Dick's lower deck, causing many a powerful Whitebeard Pirate to flee before him in desperate self-preservation. They dove into side rooms, pressed against the walls, or even tried to flee before the excited rubber pirate before creeping out again. Many had to lunge for cover once more due to Stefan, who eagerly chased down Luffy because he believed they were playing a game and knocked over many a pirate who was not quick enough to avoid the dog. Ace and Sabo followed in their wakes, smiling apologetically at those unlucky enough to be run over, while Jack cackled aloud at their misfortune.

It was Ace's fault that Luffy was being so reckless. For once, he surprisingly felt more amused than bad about it. He should feel guilty for causing his little brother to knock over the Whitebeard Pirates, but seeing them sprawled on the floor with dumbfounded looks on their faces was... Well... pretty hilarious. He was smiling, just a little bit, and it felt  _natural_. He was not pretending this time.

Earlier that morning, Ace had inquired about Law, which had led to him explaining that he wanted to seek out the man to thank him. Luffy had overenthusiastically decided to help, and had run off to find the surgeon before Sabo could grab him and inform him the man was in the library. And so Ace found himself participating in a game of tag, dashing after his youngest brother and Whitebeard's dog while mending the egos of the dozens of pirates the two had trampled.

In another setting, he would have been insufferably proud of Luffy. The Straw Hat Captain was  _fast_.

Ace dove between two pirates, leapt over another poor soul sprawled out on the floor, and dashed around a corner in time to see his brother collide solidly with another body. Stefan rammed into Luffy's back and went sliding backwards across the floor, tail wagging enthusiastically all the while. He nearly tripped up Sabo as he went, and Ace had the pleasure of seeing the Revolutionary nearly face-plant on the floor. The rubber pirate himself bounced off his victim while the unfortunate person— Haruta— landed hard on his butt. Sabo and Jack grabbed Luffy's arms before he could take off again, making him pout.

"Why are you stopping me? I gotta find Traffy!"

"If you had waited a moment, I would have told you  _he's in the library_." Sabo stressed.

Luffy blinked. "Oh." He glanced at Haruta, who was still on the ground. "Oops. Sorry."

The Commander's eye twitched. "It's fine."

It did not sound 'fine'. Luffy did not notice, still grinning cheerfully at Haruta. The Commander grumbled unintelligibly under his breath. He stood up, rubbing his tailbone, and his blue gaze landed on Ace. The fire-user instinctively stiffened, not happy to have the attention of the pirate he… had not exactly re-forged friendly bonds with.

After waking from his latest series of nightmares more than a week ago, Ace had attempted to seek out the Commander to talk but the man had always been busy. The Summer Spirit tried to convince himself that was the reason and that the man was not avoiding him. However, although the Moby Dick was big, it was nearly impossible to not run into other people sometime, especially the Commanders. If that did not make him suspicious, Haruta outright turning around in the doorway and leaving the moment he saw Ace in the mess hall a few days ago did.

Ace really wanted to drop his gaze and shuffle silently onward without interacting with the Twelfth Division Commander. The remnants of his stubbornness— or maybe just his desperate need for approval— ignored that desire. He still had not successfully apologized to Haruta for burning him and whatever else he did to gain the man's ire. He might as well take the opportunity to try again.

" _You go ahead and make sure Law is there. I have to talk to Haruta for a bit."_  Ace internally winced at his wording but kept it off his face.

Jack eyed him for a long moment. Ace had told him about his… issues with Haruta— or, more specifically, the Commander's problems with him— and the Winter Spirit had been  _displeased_  to say the least. It had taken a hug that might have been more of a tackle to keep the Guardian from hunting down the pirate and freezing his feet to the deck.

"Sure." Jack said eventually.

He grabbed Luffy and Sabo's arms and dragged them away, ignoring the rubber pirate's protests. Stefan did not go with them, instead sitting next to Ace's feet and staring at Haruta. On a human the look in his eyes may have been accusing, but the Summer Spirit doubted the dog was capable of such an expression. Nevertheless, the Commander shifted his weight uncomfortably before trying to shove past the fire-user.

Ace stepped into his path, keeping his cringe internal when Haruta pinned him with a flat stare. The Summer Spirit took a moment to make sure the hall they were in was empty, then began to write in his notebook. He felt a rush of relief when the Commander did not slink away during the time it took to scribe the words.

" _Hi. I missed you at the meeting. Did that storm ever come through?"_

 _Yeah, talk about the weather first._  Ace sneered at himself. _That's the best way to not be awkward, Ace. But it's not like I can just walk up to him and apologize out of nowhere. He'll probably get mad again._

Haruta frowned, confused by the question, before his expression shifted, becoming more uncomfortable. "No, we avoided it." He said shortly.

Ace could not hold in a wince at his tone.  _I must've caught him at a bad time again. Or he's still angry at me. That's okay. I deserve it. I still want to try to apologize though…_

" _Did the others tell you what was discussed at the meeting?"_ he asked, struggling to keep the conversation going. The Summer Spirit felt like he was trying to give a public speech instead of talking to a former crewmate, every word feeling like a mistake and his confidence slowly dwindling under Haruta's relentless stare.

"Yeah. Fossa already told me the basics about Pitch and what he plans to do." The Commander said stiffly. "Everyone else was a little busy freaking out over your latest collapse."

On second thought, speaking to a room full of strangers would feel less stressful than this. Ace forced his mouth to morph into an apologetic smile, tilting his head downward slightly so the brim of his hat would hide the hurt that had to be showing in his eyes.

" _Sorry about that."_  He wrote, wishing he could say the words in a disarmingly casual tone. People seemed to respond better to apologies if a person could convey them lightly or like they were joking.

Haruta exhaled sharply, emitting a low hissing sound and making the fire-user jump. "Just stop it." He said, voice tinged with weariness. "I know what you're trying to do, and I— It's not— Just  _stop_."

Ace looked at him uncertainly. Stefan whined, tail drooping, and pressed his body against the fire-user's leg.

Haruta gave a frustrated sound, raking his fingers through his hair. "No, that's not— I'm trying to say— I'm not good with change or— or apologies, or stuff like that. I'm just— Damn it! I'm not doing this right!"

The Commander growled and slammed his fist into the wall, making Stefan whimper again. Ace instinctively stepped back out of Haruta's reach with his hands raised defensively. The nervous part of him that always lingered wanted to flee, but it was stifled by his desire to make things right between himself and Haruta. That did not stop him from stiffening when the pirate noticed his wariness, blue gaze sharpening again. Then the angry fire left his eyes and he slumped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"… I'm sorry, okay?" Haruta said quietly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you and hurt you. I was mad at myself and took it out on you even though you didn't do anything wrong. You already apologized to me and you don't have to do it again. I accepted it but I was just being a bastard at the time. I—" His breath hitched. "I wanted to tell you earlier but then you tried to k- _kill_  yourself and I knew it was my fault and I was scared you wouldn't want to see me a-and—"

The Commander was crying now, sinking to the floor with his hands covering his face in a futile effort to preserve his dignity. It was a good thing no one else was there to witness Haruta's distress. He would be furious— and embarrassed— if there was, though the pirate's reputation was the least of Ace's worries at the moment.

It took Ace a moment to react, frozen by Haruta's words. For once, it was not guilt or fear that kept him unmoving, but genuine horror.

 _He still thinks I hurt myself?_  Ace thought, shocked.  _Is that why he's been avoiding me? Did the Commanders forget to tell him the truth?_

It was a probable yet terrible mistake on their part. Those that would be mindful of passing on such details had been with Ace, and if the others had been distracted by the Summer Spirit's predicament, only passing on the 'urgent' information they learned…

Ace quickly wrote, kneeling next to Haruta and nudging him. The Commander shakily took the notebook and the fire-user used his free arms to hug the man, squeezing him tightly. The blue-eyed pirate tensed at the contact, then sighed and read his words silently.

" _I forgive you. I never blamed you. But you do not need to blame yourself. I did not injure myself. Pitch attacked me and gave me those wounds. I thought the Commanders told you. If I had known you felt needlessly guilty, I would have hunted you down sooner."_

It took a moment for the pirate to process the words. When he did, his expression crumpled further. Ace was about to snap at himself for making things worse when the Commander spoke.

"It w-wasn't my fault?" Haruta hiccupped, voice shaky. "It— It wasn't because I—? But I called you b- _broken_. I— I'm a terrible brother."

Ace tapped him on the forehead to silence him and shook his head resolutely. The Commander suddenly dropped the notebook and reached up, trapping the fire-user in a belatedly returned embrace. Haruta's grip tightened to near-painful levels and he clung to Ace like he was afraid the Summer Spirit would vanish if he let go. Ace felt a little claustrophobic in his hold, but did not dare to pull away lest the pirate misunderstand his reasons.

"I'm s-sorry." Haruta sniffled. "I'm s-so sorry."

Stefan walked over to the huddle and squeezed in between the two, snuggled against Haruta's side. The Summer Spirit and pirate shifted their arms to trap the dog in the embrace with them, with the blue-eyed Commander cracking a smile when the canine licked his face to try to make him feel better.

Despite causing Haruta grief, Ace's heart felt surprisingly light. He had actually done something right for once. He had stood his ground, and driven the Commander to reveal what was truly bothering him. He had cleared up Haruta's fears and freed him of a burden he should not carry. And he had managed to do it all  _without_  making the situation worse. It was a small success, but after all those failures it felt like a leap in the right direction.

Ace's fears and exhaustion retreated the slightest bit, giving him a sense of tranquility, and he felt like he could face the world.

ROTGOPROTGOP

He was rarely one to be stunned into paralysis. While nowhere near as bullheaded and reckless as his brothers, his first response was always action rather than inaction, movement in preference of stillness, retaliation instead of compliance. Though he supposed being frozen in place, with his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth hurt and slight pain in his palms from the nails digging into them, was beneficial this one instance. If he could move, he would have stumbled forward, revealing himself to that Commander and Ace, and Sabo was not sure if he would be forgiven for eavesdropping this time.

The Revolutionary had not intended to listen in on the two crewmates' conversation. He, Jack, and Luffy had located Law at last and it had taken ice around the rubber pirate's feet and a swift tackle from the Winter Spirit to keep the Straw Hat Captain from running off with the poor surgeon in tow to Ace. To keep his little brother from barging in on a likely private discussion, Sabo had offered to retrieve their black-haired fire-using sibling, leaving an excited Luffy, sniggering Jack, amused Baby Tooth, and annoyed Law in the library.

He had intended to hang back around the corner and wait for silence to reveal himself, except he had misjudged how loud the Commander— Haruta?— was speaking. As a result, he heard…  _that_. Now Sabo could not retreat out of range if he wanted to. He could only stand in shocked silence, the Commander's words bouncing around his fuzzy head, all while a detached part of him screamed in desperate denial.

If what Haruta said was true— and how could he ever be mistaken about something that horrific?— Ace had recently attempted to  _commit suicide_.

Sabo knew his older brother had little self-worth. He knew Ace struggled to find a reason to live. But he had always been so strong as a child, determined to exist out of pure spite if nothing else, so surely he would never do such a thing? Except… Ace was not a child anymore. He was not the same person he used to be. He was different, both because of the years that had passed and his experiences in the past few months.

The Revolutionary could not say he knew his brother as well as siblings should anymore. He still loved him, and felt a familial bond with him, but he could not claim to be able to predict Ace's thoughts, behaviors, or actions. When he had seen the bandages around Ace's wrists, he had assumed the fire-user had been attacked. However, it appeared that was not what happened.

Sabo felt ill. For the first time in a long time, the Revolutionary felt shaken and sick to his stomach. As a man who fought the monsters of the World Government, he had seen many things in his lifetime. Slavery, abuse, illness, misery, death. Yet none of that had shaken him as much as the thought of Ace trying to end his life did.

He heard the clatter of shoes on the floor and stumbled away from the corner, retreating— fleeing— before Ace could spot him. Sabo could not face him while alone, not now. If he did, he would say something that might make the fire-user worse. He could not think of a plan, of a way to fix this, of what to do next, because his mind was too muddled, too trapped into denial to think anything at all. One thing was for certain though.

Sabo could not tell Luffy.

ROTGOPROTGOP

One thing Law missed about being on his own ship was the ability to throw people out of the room when he had enough of them. He supposed that he still could do such a thing to a certain overbearing Straw Hat Pirate— and would find much pleasure in the act— though he had a feeling the rest of his companions would not take it well. Actually, only Sabo would be offended. Baby Tooth would think the surgeon booting Luffy from the library was hilarious, and at this point Law swore Jack might assist in his attempt.

Law had come to the Moby Dick's impressive library to get away from the Straw Hats and their antics. It was a welcome escape from the chaos of Luffy's crew, the library not only giving him something to do, but allowing him to fully relax for the first time in a long time.

Even Robin had refrained from following him, even though the archaeologist would love to peruse the Yonko's extensive shelves of potential knowledge. Law wondered if the Straw Hats had gained the courtesy to let him have his space, or if he was simply less capable of hiding his mounting tiredness and annoyance than he thought he was.

Either way, he did not expect their Captain to hunt him down and insist on staying with him until his black-haired brother showed up. Ace wanted to see the Heart Pirate for some reason, and Law would be much more willing to indulge him if Luffy was not involved. Luffy had searched for and found him, but now he would not leave Law's side or allow him to leave, claiming he needed to stay put so they would not have to search again, while simultaneously saying they could not go to Ace because he was busy at the moment.

If Sabo had not returned when he did— Looking a little pale, but it was not Law's business to ask— and was not currently keeping his little brother entertained, the surgeon would be cutting up things by now, preferably an annoyance made of rubber.

At least Jack was being well-behaved and patient. The enigmatic ice-user was one of the reasons Law had come to the library in the first place, not that the surgeon would let him know that. Jack had saved him from drowning, which meant that his powers did not come from a Devil Fruit. The Heart Pirate may have written off his control over ice and frost as genetic or a strange talent if not for a thought that crept up on him before he went to sleep the night before.

Pitch Black called himself the 'Spirit of Fear'. He also knew Jack well if their conversation during that botched rescue attempt was of any indication. Given time to muse about the connection between the two, Law began to suspect that 'Spirit' was not a simple epithet. Could a 'Spirit' be a specific type of person, or an overall categorization of people with powers like Pitch and Jack?

Being a doctor, surgeon, and pirate, Law yearned for knowledge and answers, and the source of Jack and Pitch's powers was a mystery worth investigating in the surgeon's opinion. So here Law was, searching for anything dealing with 'Spirits' in the Moby Dick's library. At least he had been until Luffy decided to interrupt him. The Straw Hat Pirate did not know the meaning of the words 'quiet', 'researching', and 'patience'. Naturally, he was pestering Law and asking what he was doing in the boring old library, and making a tower out of his books, and looking over Law's shoulder, and growing more and more insistent as the surgeon ignored him. The Heart Pirate was not about to tell the idiot he was looking for answers about a 'mystery'.

Thank Oda that Jack was not being a nuisance as well. The Winter Spirit perfectly capable of bugging people in ways that put Luffy to shame but refrained for once. The ice-user lounged casually in a chair, leaning precariously on the back two legs with his bare feet on the table. If they had been on his ship, Law might have removed the legs to send the Winter Spirit crashing to the ground already, but the Whitebeard Pirates did not seem to mind feet on the furniture.

The surgeon considered doing it anyway, just to enact some form of petty vengeance against those that were invading the space he had claimed as his. Then again, such an action would trigger Luffy's talent for destruction and Law was certain their hosts weren't forgiving enough to let that potential disaster go.

Luckily, Ace decided to show up before Law could give in to his violent fantasies.

Luffy perked up immediately. "Hey, Ace! Traffy's here."

He wrapped an arm around the surgeon and gave him a 'friendly' shake that would only be considered not harmful to a bar of solid steel. Baby Tooth chirped in panic and clung to his hat as she was swung around, and Law growled a warning. The Straw Hat Pirate apparently had a self-preservation instinct for he immediately released the surgeon. Law righted himself and his hat, feeling Baby Tooth's familiar weight on his head.

She tapped him a couple times as if to tell him she was fine, but he swore the Fairy was patting him in consolation, not just to assure him she was still there. She gave a series of sympathetic squeaks and Law dreamily imagined she was offering to stab the rubber pirate in the hand again. He was glad one person understood his suffering.

Ace smiled a little and shook his head affectionately before nodding a greeting at the Heart Pirate. The fire-user looked uncomfortable as he approached the surgeon, but Law was not one to try to make himself seem more approachable for others' sake.

Then again, the Heart Pirate guessed it was not his natural disposition that was making Ace wary. Portgas always looked tense around people nowadays, a recently-developed personality quirk if the looks Sabo shot at him behind his back were of any indication.

Ace held out his notebook for Law to take, words already written for the surgeon to read.  _"I apologize for making you wait. I just wanted to thank you for telling me about Sabo. That gave me the strength to escape on my own."_

Law read the message of gratefulness quickly, shoving Luffy away when he tried to look over his shoulder, and felt the headache behind his eyes ease a tiny bit. To be honest, he was a little shocked  _that_  was the reason that Ace had sought him out. He could not exactly think of another basis for the fire-user to come to find him, but after hearing about Portgas's memory problems, he had assumed that the former prisoner would completely forget about even meeting the surgeon. The fact that Ace had recalled his words and taken intentional steps to show gratitude… it was almost touching. The surgeon handed the notebook back.

"You're welcome." He said in a bored voice. His grey eyes flicked to Luffy and Sabo. "It's nice to know at least one of you is capable of being polite."

Luffy grinned unapologetically.

Sabo huffed, looking offended. "Excuse me? I'm a  _gentleman_."

Law gave him a flat look. "If you're a gentleman then I'm a Spirit."

Jack snorted. Baby Tooth giggled. Ace smiled distantly, less like he was amused and more like he was afraid he would be stabbed if he didn't.

Luffy failed to identify the mysterious phenomena known as 'sarcasm', stretching his neck and going nearly nose to nose with the surgeon. "You're a Spirit, Law?" he asked, fascinated. "Like Pitch and Jack?"

The ice-user choked and whipped his head to look at Luffy, flailing for a moment as he nearly lost his balance. The table he had been resting his feet on was covered with a layer of frost.

"I mean, cause Pitch called himself the 'Spirit of Fear' and Jack is called 'Winter Spirit' on his bounty." The rubber pirate clarified. His head tipped quizzically. "Did your nickname change?"

Jack deflated, though his miserable look was quickly covered up by a sly smirk. That did not stop Ace from noticing and patting his arm though.

The surgeon returned his attention to the most irritating of the brothers. "No." He did not feel like explaining.

Luffy frowned at him before shrugging carelessly. "Okay." Then he blinked, smacking his forehead. "I forgot! Chopper wanted to talk to me about something important earlier but I went to find Traffy instead. I gotta go."

He sped past his bewildered brothers, leaving the 'boring and dusty' library with a spring in his step. There was a low thud and a shouted apology from the retreating Straw Hat Pirate, and Law relaxed slightly, unrepentantly glad to be rid of him. Maybe now he could finally—

His mood soured again when Marco strode into the library, looking slightly ruffled. Law wondered if the rubber pirate had run into the Phoenix on his way out. The surgeon felt great sympathy for the man if that were the case.

The blond pirate quirked an eyebrow at Jack, eyes lingering on his feet. The Winter Spirit smiled unrepentantly and did not move from his comfortable position. Law mentally sighed and wondered if it was beneath him to beg the First Division Commander to kick everyone out and leave him in peace. Yes, the library was for everyone but he came here to  _get away_  from others, and he did not want to risk alerting them to the subject of his research. Some of his irritation must have shown on his face for the Phoenix's lips twitched when he looked at the surgeon.

Then Marco's gaze went back to Jack. "Jack, I would like to speak with you for a moment, if you don't mind."

"I didn't do it." The Winter Spirit said instantly. "The bucket of glitter over Vista's door wasn't put there by me."

Marco blinked. "What?"

"Nothing." Jack said innocently.

The Phoenix pinched the bridge of his nose. "…I'm tempted to order people to keep you and Thatch away from each other, yoi. But that is not what I wished to speak with you about. If you would…?" He gestured towards the door.

Jack put his feet on the floor and stood, glancing at Ace. The Winter Spirit did not say anything, simply glancing at the fire-user, and Portgas immediately nodded, shooing him away with a hand. Law felt a little surprised, suspecting that he had just witnessed a conversation without words, and had a feeling it was not just because Ace was incapable of speaking. How well did the fire and ice-wielders really know each other?

_Ace-ya still has control over fire even though Sabo-ya has his old Devil Fruit._

If Law were more expressive, he might have gasped aloud or straightened at his realization. Instead he merely narrowed his grey eyes, the latest connection clicking into place. According to the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace still had fire powers, but it was impossible for them to come from the Mera Mera no Mi.

Could Ace's abilities come from the same source as Pitch and Jack's? Could he be a 'Spirit' as well?

"Sure, I'll talk." Jack said to Marco. "See you in a bit, Ace."

They left, leaving only the fire-user and Sabo with Law. The surgeon pulled a book from the pile he had collected, hoping the two would take the hint and depart. Instead Ace sat carefully, like he was afraid it would break beneath his weight. Or maybe that the Heart Pirate would attack him once he was in reaching distance.

Sabo shifted his weight and opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking. The Revolutionary looked abruptly uncomfortable, like he wanted to leave or talk but could not find the courage to do so. He kept glancing at Law, an odd look in his eyes. Wariness?

 _It's obvious he needs to go do something but won't— or can't. Does he not want to leave Ace-ya alone with me?_  A flash of anger went through Law, making his fingers curl tighter around the book he held.  _I wouldn't hurt him._

Ace was scribbling in his notebook, and it took Law a moment to realize the fire-user was drawing. He was completely focused on the page, almost like he had forgotten other people were there, and Law had no desire to disturb him. After a while, Sabo gave a low sigh— unnoticed by his older brother— and got up, retrieving a book of his own.

The library fell into blissful silence, and Law was able to ignore everything and zero in on his research once again. So far there he had found nothing about 'Spirits' other than legends about the Klabautermann. That did not surprise him. Although the Moby Dick's variety of books was more expansive than his own and the Thousand Sunny's, it was not infinite. He doubted information about whatever group Jack and Pitch were a part of would be that easy to find.

Naturally, the calm was shattered by none other than Luffy. The Straw Hat Pirate nearly broke the door down when he literally burst into the library, dragging his poor doctor along with him. Ace reacted the most to his brother's abrupt appearance, leaping backwards out of his seat with flames flaring at his hands and shoulders.

Sabo winced in the same moment, hand twitching, obviously startled by Luffy's entrance. Thankfully the elder fire-user did not lash out with his fire and set the library ablaze, the flames extinguishing almost as soon as they materialized. Luffy did not notice his brother's alarm, rushing right to him and grinning in his face.

"Ace, Ace, Ace!" he said rapidly, looking ready to burst with excitement. "Chopper had an idea on how to fix you. He thinks Traffy can get the sand out!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all knew at least one of the brothers had to get misinformed. I bet you probably guessed this was going to happen from the moment the Whitebeard Pirates jumped to conclusions. One of the most interesting and exploitable parts of having a mute character is that people can literally only overhear half of a conversation and can easily misinterpret it because of that.


	29. Fix

There were many people Fleet Admiral Sakazuki hated working with. The Warlords, certain high-ranked officials, foolish superiors, cowards, the list went on. And yet none of those people infuriated the Magma Logia as much as the man standing before him, both because of his nature and his attitude.

Pitch Black was an enigma. Sakazuki  _despised_  enigmas. The knowledge the Nightmare King possessed would normally result in the Logia killing him on the spot, but for unknown reasons the Gorosei had decreed otherwise and demanded that the Fleet Admiral use Pitch as an asset. Although he despised leaving a potential loose end hanging, Sakazuki agreed that the mysterious man was useful to the Marines.

Pitch was easily strong enough to be a Warlord, or more accurately an Admiral if the Marine were being honest with himself. His seemingly effortless hunting down and slaughtering of numerous Whitebeard Allies was a testament to that.

Word of the Yonko meeting with Shanks, then summoning his Allies, had spurred the World Government into action like someone had lit a fire under them. They had a vague idea of where Whitebeard himself was after Vice Admiral Onigumo had failed to check in while seeking out the Moby Dick, but the Marines did not have the manpower or means to fight out the Yonko on his turf. Yet.

If Sakazuki allowed himself to think about the potential future conflict with the World's Strongest Man, he could not help but feel slight concern. If anything, the last battle with Whitebeard had proven that even with all their strength, planning, and cunning, the Marines could not know everything. To the Marines, the Marineford Battle was a loss. It was true that they killed Portgas D. Ace— and he  _was_  dead, rumors be damned!— but their true goal of taking out Whitebeard was not fulfilled.

They lost thousands of men, faced a huge prison break from Impel Down, and although they managed to keep the latter incident under wraps, the fact that the Yonko and most of his crew had persevered was seen by the world as a sign that the Marines were not as powerful as they seemed, that their hold was not absolute.

As a result, piracy had skyrocketed. Termites swarmed from the woodwork, with those formerly unwilling to step out of line becoming eager to push the boundaries of the world. Like animals they saw possible flaws in a great power and decided to rebel when it was 'safer', when the threat against them was not as invincible. Cowards, the lot of them.

The Marines could not afford another perceived 'loss' against Whitebeard. When they finally fought, they had to be prepared and ensure their victory. And so, for now, they had sent Pitch. The Nightmare King had agreed to dispose of Whitebeard's Allies and other pirate threats in exchange for…  _something_  that even the Fleet Admiral was not privy to— which infuriated Sakazuki greatly.

They did not trust the Nightmare King to have enough strength to destroy Whitebeard himself, so they merely sent him to take out as many of the Captains as he could before they reached the Yonko. Pitch was eerily efficient, tracking down crews with methods the Marines could not replicate and disappearing through shadows to deal with them himself, vanishing and returning within hours. Each time he reported to Sakazuki with a smug, knowing smirk on his face, and each time the Fleet Admiral had to resist the urge to attack the so-called Spirit. Just like he did now.

"Well?" Sakazuki said impatiently as Pitch stepped into the room, wanting his 'ally' out of his sight as soon as possible.

The Nightmare King had his smile duly in place. "The A.O. Pirates, Blondie Pirates, and Maelstrom Spider Pirates—" The grin grew sadistic. "—have been disposed of."

He said the words flippantly, like he had not just admitted he had thoroughly demolished three more New World pirate crews, and if he were speaking with a Marine, Sakazuki may even be pleased of the man capable of such feats. Indeed, Pitch's abilities were a great asset. But the Nightmare King was also a huge risk. Pitch was not a pirate. Nor was he a Marine. Nor was he a Devil Fruit user, as him casually picking up seastone manacles a clumsy Marine had dropped had proven. At times, Sakazuki questioned if he was even human, before dismissing such a foolish notion.

"Good." Sakazuki grunted. "Dismissed."

Pitch ignored him, instead leaning forward with a curious expression. "You're worried about something." He commented, head tipping. "Would you like to share?"

The Magma Logia wanted nothing more than to burn the bastard to death. He kept his expression neutral. " _Dismissed_."

Pitch smirked, and strolled casually to the door of the office. He paused in the doorway and turned back, eyes glinting.

"I think I see. Your superiors are breathing down your neck, aren't they? They…  _fear_  that the Navy's power is still weakened after the War of the Best." Pitch looked at Sakazuki with half-lidded yellow eyes. "There's no need to worry, Fleet Admiral. This war will not end like the last one. Tell your Gorosei that I intend to keep my promise. I assure you… Once I'm finished, you'll  _never_  have to worry about pirates again."

He left before Sakazuki could respond.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace did not feel comfortable about anything to do with the current situation.

The sight of the sterile and orderly infirmary made his skin crawl. The way Law and Chopper moved about the room with professional efficiency made his hands shake. His younger brothers' presences in the corner made his veins feel like they were filled with ice instead of blood. He did not show his unease. Partly because of his present company, and partly because he knew it was illogical and stupid and  _why_  could he not just be excited about this like everyone else was?

Then again, they weren't the ones who were about to go into surgery.

Ace continued to watch Law and Chopper walk around, picking up materials and shooting comments and concerns back and forth as they discussed the quickly-approaching operation. The Summer Spirit could not hear their words through the ringing in his ears, and he was not sure he wanted to.

It was all happening too fast for the fire-user, but there were no reasonable grounds for there to be any delay in extracting the black sand. Ace tried to tell himself that was why he had agreed with Luffy's bubbly demands to do the procedure as soon as possible, and not because he wanted to avoid giving Bay time to realize how risky this all could be and stop them.

Ace was caught between two extremes: the part of him that wanted the black sand out as soon as possible, and the part of him that was currently panicking in the back of his mind at the thought of being under the literal knife.

It had not taken much to convince Law and Sabo that having the surgeon use his Devil Fruit to get the sand out of Ace was indeed feasible. Unlike Pitch's… 'attempts', the surgeon could make the necessary incisions without actually harming the Summer Spirit. The Revolutionary had asked questions, the Heart Pirate made scientific observations, and Ace had just enough time to force his expression into a curious, 'hopeful' look before Luffy pounced on him, eager to have discovered a way to 'fix' his brother.

They were all so  _happy_  that Ace was going to be rid of the poison inside him. The fire-user was happy and excited too… but his joy was tempered by fear. The Summer Spirit did not like surprises, and a sudden and miraculous way to abolish the sand from his veins seemed too good to be true. Deep in his heart, he believed there was no way it could be that easy, but he did not object when he was taken to the Thousand Sunny's med bay.

Too quickly. It was all moving along too quickly. But why wait?

It was definitely Ace's paranoia speaking, but he was wary about the others' insistence — minus Law, who was not wasting time with such things— that they do this now, today. Some of their phrases were like triggers in his mind, setting off alarm bells and making him feel… unsafe.

_I'm being an idiot again. Stop overanalyzing everything._

"You're going to feel so much better after this, Ace." Luffy said cheerfully, unintentionally adding to his brother's anxiety. "Maybe once the sand is out you'll be able to talk again."

Ace made himself smile even as claws stabbed at his heart. He knew removing the sand would have no effect on his muteness but did not have the courage to inform his brother of that. Not now. He did not want to crush his brothers apparent hope that getting the sand out of his blood would make everything wrong with Ace vanish… or maybe he wanted to hold onto that childish belief for himself. Even though logic scoffed at the idea, the Summer Spirit wanted to think that ridding himself of the poison would cure all— or even just a majority— of his ailments.

That would not happen but they might as well try.

Still, Ace could not deny he was… nervous. Not just about the operation itself, but the person performing it as well. Ace liked Law. He trusted him more than lots of people because the surgeon had never haunted his nightmares. Except the reason for his absence from them was the same reason why the fire-user was so apprehensive. Law was a stranger. He was Luffy's ally, and a skilled doctor, and had helped Ace escape Pitch, but he was still an unknown.

_So much can go wrong…_

Ace  _must_  subconsciously want this over with though. He could convince himself of that. If he was unsure, he could have insisted that they go to Bay and the others to ask for advice and consent. He could have found ways to drag his feet and put it off. He could have outright stated that he was not sure this would work and did not want to face the disappointment when it didn— If it didn't.

The Summer Spirit was really beginning to despise hope as much as fear. Both were problematic and always led to him being hurt. He could not argue though. He would not. Because Luffy and Sabo and everyone else thought this could work, and believed it would, and maybe Ace did too. Any reason to delay was stupid, and would only be for the fire-user's peace of mind. It would be selfish and cowardly to demand they wait.

_What would I even say? "Sorry guys, I don't want to do this yet because I don't feel comfortable and I'm scared"? I'm just overreacting again. Don't be a baby._

Almost like he could hear his thoughts, Chopper turned to Ace, expression serious. "Are you sure you want to do this now? We can consult with Bay first—"

Ignoring his reservations and the offered way out, the fire-user held up a hand and nodded to the first question, while declining the second. He did not want to do this one hundred percent, but he had to. Not only for Luffy and Sabo and Jack and everyone else, but for himself. If he got cold feet now, he would never try.

To prove his point, Ace laid down on the operation table, head propped up slightly by the pillow. From the side of the room, Luffy grinned and gave him a double thumbs up. Ace would prefer it if his brothers were not there for this, but knew they would insist on staying despite his wishes. With luck, Luffy would find the whole thing boring and wander off with Sabo in tow.

The reindeer doctor sighed. "If you're certain… Okay." He stood beside Ace, holding his gaze. "I already told you this, but let's go over it one more time before we begin. Law is going to use his abilities to remove the black sand. Simply trying to pull the sand out would likely cause you harm, so he will use his severance technique on your limbs. That will give it more accessible draining points. I promise you won't feel anything." Chopper assured him. "Right, Law?"

The surgeon nodded, already pulling on gloves and placing a mask over his mouth. He shooed Baby Tooth away. The Fairy pouted and flitted over to Sabo, landing on his top hat with an unhappy expression. The surgeon was seemingly satisfied with her choice, for he elaborated. "My abilities will work as both an anesthetic and a paralytic."

Ace felt another twinge of unease at the last word. His blond brother noticed.

"Maybe you should give Ace a sedative during the procedure?" Sabo mentioned. "To have him be…" He searched for a word. "…unaware?"

The Summer Spirit shook his head violently. Sleeping through the operation would only hinder it, and could cause the sand to stick to him more than it already was.

"That is unnecessary." Law stated. "Besides, the sand affects him whenever he is unconscious, so it would also be counterproductive."

Sabo thought about it before nodding. "Right. Sorry."

"Is there anything else you need to say?" Chopper asked Law, who shook his head. The reindeer looked back to Ace. "Any questions?"

The Summer Spirit considered his query seriously. It all sounded so simple, but it was not simple at all. They were trying to get a vile poison out of his body, one that had been plaguing him for months. They made it sound so easy… and if he said okay, maybe it would be.

_Maybe I'll be able to laugh about my paranoia later._

Ace shoved his unease into a corner, writing in his notebook one final time before setting it aside.  _"Let's do it."_

Law summoned his Room and the blue sphere expanded over the operation table and surrounding area. Ace looked up at the peak of it and felt a strong jolt of vulnerability. The surgeon had complete control over everything now and if he decided to hurt— … if something happened, the Summer Spirit would be powerless against him.

 _Stop that. I want this,_  Ace told himself.  _I want to get the sand out and get better._

Should he close his eyes? If he saw the sand separating from his body he might freak out. But then again, not seeing anything was also a scary thought…

Ace saw Law approaching with a scalpel and quickly squeezed his eyes shut.

He heard the surgeon stop next to him and forced himself to keep still.  _I can't back out now. I agreed to do this._

"Starting... now." Law said lowly.

Ace did not feel it if the surgeon slit his skin. In fact, he did not feel anything at all. He was almost tempted to open his eyes to see if something was happening but stopped himself.

_Law will say something when he's done. Don't look._

It was difficult to keep himself from giving in to his curiosity— and nerves. With his sight gone, the smell of antiseptic plugging his nose, and his body strangely numb, he only had hearing left. There was very little noise to distract him, only the occasional shuffle of feet, a low murmur, and a strange sound like shifting dirt. Was that the sand?

Ace did not let himself dwell on it, searching for a distraction instead. He belatedly thought that he should have requested that someone talk to him throughout the procedure to fill the silence, but it was too late for that. The fire-user tried to find an alternative subject to focus on, deciding to zero in on his breathing. It was in that moment that he realized he could not feel his body  _at all_. He tried to wiggle his toes only for the digits to not respond. He couldn't move. He was  _paralyzed_ and _completely numb_.

If Ace's breathing quickened he did not feel it.

_It's fine. Law said this would happen. He can't have me feeling things and flailing about when he's trying to remove the sand. Just breathe._

… _If I can't move, how will I tell them if something is wrong?_

Ace felt his eyelids flicker and his nervousness eased slightly. He still had control of his eyes and eyelids, apparently. If he needed to, he could open them and see. He was not completely helpless.

_But I_ _**am** _ _. I may be able to look around but I'm stuck in my body. He could do whatever he wanted and I wouldn't be able to stop him._

Ace's breathing hitched. He  _felt_  it, along with the coldness of the metal table against his back. He thought he was supposed to be numb.

…Why could he feel a tugging sensation in his abdomen? It felt like someone was pulling—

_You're just imagining it. Don't be paranoid. Think about other things._

Ace thought about sleep. Once the sand was out, he would finally be able to rest. He had his old room back, and a nice bed, and he honestly could not wait to be able to take a nap that restored his energy instead of making his mind fray.

_I doubt Luffy will understand that the first thing I'll want to do is sleep after this. He'll probably say it sounds boring and run around the ship telling everyone I'm..._

" _Chopper had an idea on how to_ _ **fix you**_ _. He thinks Traffy can get the sand out!"_

The Straw Hat Captain's words floated up to the front of Ace's mind. Pain shot through his chest and his breathing stuttered again. If he weren't paralyzed, he would have flinched.

 _Luffy didn't mean it like that,_  Ace thought.  _He wasn't insinuating that I'm brok— not whole. He just wants me to be better._

 _That's not true. He wants me 'fixed' because he's annoyed with what I am right now. He wants the Ace who would spar with him, and was stronger than him, and wasn't a_ _ **coward**_ _. He wants the 'Old Ace' back, just like the rest of them do,_ his cynical side mocked.  _He always looks so disappointed in me lately._

The Summer Spirit recalled Luffy's pout when he refused to train with him. He remembered the Straw Hat's concerned scowl when his older did not eat. He pictured the confusion on his little brother's face when his company started to become too much for Ace, and the Whitebeard Pirates and Jack had to interfere to get the brothers away from their exhausted older sibling.

Ace's skin was starting to prickle, like a thousand pins and needles were being stabbed into his flesh. He was just being pessimistic again. Sure, Luffy did not understand that removing the sand would not magically heal the fire-user, but his brother would not be upset with that outcome, right?

Was it just him, or was this taking longer than it was supposed to? Ace was starting to experience a little light-headedness. He was not bleeding or something, was he? Law and Chopper said he wouldn't.

_They said I wouldn't feel anything either. What if they're wrong? What if they're_ _**all** _ _wrong? Is anything even happening? What if it doesn't even work? Can they really just remove the sand like_ _**that** _ _without any—_

He felt the black sand  _jolt_ , yanking at his insides.

 _Ace felt something pulling inside of him, as if an invisible force had grabbed his veins and organs and was attempting to yank them out. Everything hurt, from his head to his torso to his arms and his legs. His insides strained and shifted, trying to remain in his skin while they were being ripped and stretched under his flesh._   _He saw black and red flowing from the cuts the Nightmare King had given him. As he watched, his wounds widened, stretching across his skin as his flesh was torn apart._

Just like that, he could  _feel everything_. Ace's body would have lurched if not for his immobility keeping him in place. Agony ripped through his midsection and for a second he thought he had been torn in half. It was the black sand. It had to be. It was being ripped from his stomach, chest, arms, and legs, the latter of which seemed strangely detached from himself.

Ace's eyes snapped open and the first thing he saw was  _his legs were gone_ , amputated at his hips like he was a take-apart doll. A second glance revealed they were inches away, with black sand draining from the separation like blood. To his horror, he saw that his  _arms were removed too_  and his confusion and terror overcame all else.

Ace forgot where he was. He forgot who he was with. He forgot what was happening. Memory was shoved aside by unbridled fear and the fire-user could not open his mouth to scream. His strange surroundings were not helping to calm him any. The ceiling was unfamiliar and the doctor— scientist?— hovering over the Summer Spirit with flat grey eyes was a stranger too. This wasn't the Moby Dick's infirmary. Oh Manny, was this another nightmare where he had been captured and experimented on?

The scientist was removing the sand, yanking it from his flesh. He could see it. He could feel it. It hurt hurt  _hurt_. The sand felt like jagged chunks of boiling rock as it was dragged from Ace's detached limbs, leaving him deliriously wondering how blood was not accompanying the vile substance being torn from his flesh.

The fire-user tried to thrash, to fight, to shout for help or maybe beg for mercy, but he remained silent and immobile, trapped in his body as he silently suffered. Ace's eyes began to sting and he did not have the control to hold the forming tears back. Not that it mattered. This was a nightmare anyway.

As Ace's fear grew, the pain grew steadily worse. As he watched through blurry eyes, it seemed like flecks of sand were going against the flow, forcing its way back into his body without a single care for the person it harmed. How long had this gone on? An hour? A day? A couple minutes? The fire-user began to hope that he would grow weaker, for the pain would grow more distant as a result, only for his wish to fail to come true.

_S-Stop. Please stop. It_ _**hurts** _ _._

His silent pleas were ignored. Ace closed his eyes, trying to move, and felt a slight pain in his mouth. He felt something warm trickle down his temples and prayed it was tears. Then a stickier substance dripped out of his lips and he was not capable of deluding himself into thinking it was saliva.

Someone gasped. "He's bleeding!"

He knew that voice. He did. From where?

"Check him." A deeper voice snapped.

Ace felt hands on his face and fingers pushed into his mouth. The fire-user did not attempt to bite the digits, fearing cruel retribution for the act, but pressed his lips together, struggling to stop them from doing whatever they planned. His enemy proved to be stronger, wrenching his jaw open. He begged whatever deities that existed that they would not force feed him drugs, or shove things down his throat, or remove his tongue like he had dreamt so many times before.

"It looks like he bit his tongue or cheek." The person reported.

Sabo? It was Sabo. But Sabo was dead.

Wait… Sabo was watching? Why wasn't he helping Ace? Did the fire-user do something wrong? Did Sabo think he deserved this?

Another person gasped. "Ace is crying!"

_Luffy? He's here too?_

Despair gripped Ace's heart.

_What did I do wrong…? I'm… sorry…_

The pain increased. Knives sank into Ace's skin and his body jerked in response, writhing on the table.

_Please stop. Please stop. Please please pleasepleaseplease—!_

"What the  _hell?!_ " the unfamiliar man hissed.

"It's  _going back!_ " a higher-pitched voice shrieked. " _Law—!_ "

"Get the removed sand away from him!" the first person said sharply. "Dump it!"

There was the sound of something metal being lifted.

"Careful!" Not-Sabo cried. "Don't touch it."

"I  _know!_ " Not-Luffy snarled, sounding like he was about to cry.

His retreating footsteps skidded to a halt and he gasped. There was a crash as if two bodies had collided.

" _Careful!_ " Not-Sabo shouted.

"What in Oda's name _—?_ " A female voice asked.

"Koala! Help us dump the sand." Not-Luffy pleaded, a sob in his voice. "It won't leave Ace alone."

More footsteps.

"Ace?" the high-pitched voice called his name. "Can you hear me, Ace? If you can, please open your eyes."

Ace did not want to. If he ignored the demand though, the stranger would probably hurt him more. He forced his eyelids upward, staring blankly at the ceiling with tears still trickling down his face. Flickering shadows caught his attention and he felt another burst of fear.

_Pitch?_

The Summer Spirit turned his head. He moved it, fighting against the paralysis to control it. He should be proud of his accomplishment but he was not. The Nightmare King was not there, standing beside him like he dreaded. His not-brother was, and he looked scared, and his  _shoulders were on fire_.

Fire fire  _fire_. There was fire. Bad fire. Sabo had been killed by fire. Why was he fire? Was the fire why Not-Sabo was angry? Ace did not like the fire. It should not be in-on-in- _trappedin_  his brother. It did not belong there.

Ace shoved the fire away.

Not-Sabo yelled as he was flung backwards, slamming into the wall so hard it cracked. The cursed flames on his shoulders extinguished. But the Summer Spirit could still feel the awful flames in his brother. He had to get them  _out_. Ace lifted his hand— His limbs were connected back to his body.  _How when scared hurts?_ — fingers curled like claws, only for a tall, bipedal reindeer-creature to slam his hand back down to the table.

 _Fight! Get away! Fight! Escape!_ Ace's mind screamed.

He thrashed and bucked his body, the paralysis fading fast and more pain taking its place. It was nearly enough to make him lose breath, but he refused to give up. He had to break free. He had to  _run_.

"Hold him down!" the human stranger— the head scientist?— commanded.

"I  _am_." The reindeer snapped.

Ace was pinned. Helpless. He could not be helpless. He was not supposed to be. He was meant to be strong, be better than this. Why did he always let the nightmares  _beat him—?_

Fear was swept aside by a boiling rage and fire blasted out from Ace's body. The reindeer gasped and stumbled back, while the scientist cursed up a storm. If the fire-user's rage had lingered, he may have shown the man what a  _real_ storm looked like, but it faded too quickly, letting him circle back to fear.

It still hurt. It would not stop. It was getting harder to think.

Where was he?

 _Escape,_  Ace mind hazily formed the thought.  _Got to… escape._

The fire-user weakly pushed himself off the operation table, instantly falling to the ground. He could see the door. There were people standing in the way— shadowy figures in his eyes— but he might be able to get past them. Before he could try to drag himself across the floor, arms wrapped around him and pinned the limbs to his sides, looping multiple times to ensure he was trapped. Ace struggled feebly, breathing loud and wheezy in his ears.

The Not-Luffy was holding onto him and crying. Ace should feel bad but it was not the real Luffy so it was okay. He could not bring himself to burn the Not-Luffy to escape his hold, however. The fake was fake and this all was fake but it sounded like Luffy and looked like Luffy but it wasn't Luffy so it didn't matter?

His head hurt. He was so pathetic.

Ace continued his futile wiggling, growing more exhausted by the second. Maybe he should let the blackness take him. Then he would wake in a different nightmare, technically escaping this. But what if it was worse…?

Blue. He saw blue. And white.

Jack. Jack was there, in the doorway. Jack would help him. Jack wouldn't hurt him.

Ace thrashed weakly in Not-Luffy's hold, freeing an arm and reaching desperately for the Winter Spirit. Jack was at his side in an instant, shoving the fake away and encasing the fire-user in his arms. Ace curled up as small as he could, selfishly letting the Guardian of Fun shield his body with his own. He hoped they would not hurt Jack to get to him. He should not allow the Winter Spirit to protect him. If he gave himself up maybe they would leave Jack alone and— and—

Ace remembered.

_This is real._

The emotion that came to him could not be identified as horror. It could not exactly be called guilt or shame either. It was like numbness, except it was  _charged_ , more like a fragile bubble holding the other emotions back while unintentionally letting snippets through.

Ace looked around the Thousand Sunny's med bay, taking in the destruction he had caused. Sabo was still by the wall, ashen-skinned and shaking with a concerned Koala at his side. Luffy was on the floor near the operation table, eyes puffy and red. Chopper was applying burn cream to his arms, fur singed. Law was relatively unharmed, but looked exhausted and drained. Baby Tooth sat on his hat again, quivering.

Jack was with Ace. And Marco was near the door. The Summer Spirit did not know what they had witnessed or how long they had been there. The furious expression on the blond Commander's face said it was long enough. No, 'furious' did not begin to describe the Phoenix's visage. He did not look merely angry. He looked  _livid_.

Ace's flame-colored orbs met blazing blue eyes, and the Summer Spirit was unable to avert his gaze. The Phoenix looked into his soul, burning with a mute fury that took Ace's breath away. Surprisingly, it did not send him into hysteria as well. The fire-user was uncertain whether he trusted Marco enough to not feel terrified right then, or if he was simply too tired to feel scared.

He slowly began to notice that he was still in pain, his entire body aching at best and feeling like it was filled with icy shards of metal at worst. And his  _head_ … it felt like someone was hitting his skull with a mallet. Ace hunched over slightly before giving up and laying down on the floor in a fetal position. His insides felt wrong— dislodged?— again.

_Please don't let it be another hernia or something…_

Chopper was at his side in an instant. "Ace? Where does it hurt?" he asked urgently.

The Summer Spirit could not answer. He felt Jack's cold hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles. The Winter Spirit did not speak.

"What's wrong with him?" Sabo demanded, trying to get up from his position against the wall. "There shouldn't be any damage!"

Marco's jaw clenched, his teeth cracking audibly. The sudden noise startled a majority of the room, and they all looked at the Phoenix.

He spoke at last, voice soft and almost serene. "What…  _happened?_ "

Despite his attempt at calmness, Marco's tone was one of utter fury, holding a tranquil rage that was just begging to be unleashed. It was a voice reserved for the Phoenix's worst enemies, for those who had dared to gain the pirate's wrath, and despite himself Ace recoiled. He flinched again as his body wailed in protest, and uselessly put a hand to his mouth to muffle a pained cry that could not form. The Summer Spirit forced himself to sit up again, arms wrapped around himself as if pressure would make the pain go away.

Jack kept a hand on his shoulder. He still did not speak, instead staring at him with a mildly puzzled expression.

"We thought Traffy could get the sand out." Luffy— stupid, lovable, brave, idiotic Luffy— told Marco.

"I  _saw_." The Phoenix hissed, reminding Ace of a furious rattlesnake. "But please, let me make sure I have this straight… You had an idea to remove the sand from Ace, yoi. Instead of informing us and consulting with  _his doctor_ on the matter, who is much more knowledgeable in the workings of the sand than you, you decided to go  _behind our backs_  and perform the surgery almost immediately. Without telling  _any of us._ "

"Yeah." Luffy said shamelessly. "Look, it almost worked."

Marco did not reply, but his expression said it all. He was too incensed to form words.

As if he could not sense the rising tension in the room, Luffy handed Ace a mirror, allowing him to see his reflection. The marks on his face were completely gone, leaving his skin there clear. Dropping his gaze, the fire-user blearily scanned the rest of his visible flesh, feeling oddly detached.

As far as Ace could see, the only marks remaining were the ones on his abdomen, sides, and arms, with a few tendrils reaching up his ribcage. If he wanted to, he could pretend they were stylistic tattoos. He glanced at his left bicep and did a double take, just able to spot the outlines of his real ASCE tattoo there. Sabo saw the tribute to him as well and bit his lip, looking ready to cry. Or maybe trying to refrain from teasing Ace for his nostalgia. That would not go over well in the current situation.

"Your upper back is clear, too." Chopper reported softly. "There are a few streaks on your lower back and a couple on your shoulders but that is all."

Ace wanted to be happy. He wanted to thank Law for his aid. Most of the sand was gone after all… but not all of it. The operation had helped, but it had not been a full success. And it still felt like all of his organs had been twisted up and pushed into the wrong places after being shoved through a wood chipper. The Summer Spirit desperately hoped he did not have a hernia— or worse— again.

Ace was upset to note he was still crying like an idiot and kept his head down in the hopes that no one would see. Naturally, someone did.

"It's okay. You're okay." Jack murmured, voice oddly distant.

He barely looked Ace's way, still gazing about with that strange expression. Was the Guardian angry at him too? Like Marco was at all of them? No, not all of them. That cold blue glares were not being directed at the fire-user…

They were directed at Luffy.

Ace forced himself to ignore the pain and sort his priorities. A new fear was taking hold as Marco's standoffish demeanor and harsh statements registered in his mind. The Whitebeard Pirates and Straw Hat Pirates were allies, and the Captain was a former crewmate's brother, but how far did that alliance extend? How far could their Captain push the Yonko's crew? Sneaking around behind their backs, operating on a technical crew member without his doctor's permission, potentially hurting him more and causing further complications… In less forgiving unions, their actions could be seen as a betrayal.

 _What have I done?_  Ace thought.

He had to shift the blame away from Luffy. Sure it was the rubber pirate's ship, his med bay, his ally and doctor that agreed to perform the surgery, but Ace had the final say. He was the reason everything went so wrong. He fumbled with his notebook.

" _I'm the one who decided to have the surgery without telling you."_ Ace wrote shakily.  _"I wanted the sand out as soon as possible."_

Marco gave him a flat stare. "Did you?"

Ace fought to not shrink beneath his cold gaze.  _"Yes."_ He could not make himself write more.

_Blame me. Please. Don't blame them. I'm the cause of this mess._

Hindsight was near-perfect, and Ace was slowly realizing what they had done, what mistakes they had made. It was probably his fear, but it was becoming rather hard to breathe. The Summer Spirit struggled not to wheeze as he inhaled and exhaled. Chopper lingered at his side, checking him over frantically, and Marco looked like he wanted nothing more than to kick the doctor away with flaming talons. It was obvious he did not believe the fire-user's claim.

Ace pressed on, trying to solidify himself as the guilty party.  _"I didn't think we needed to tell Bay. She might have said no, so I insisted that we not inform her."_

He handed the notebook to the Phoenix, waiting anxiously.

Sabo saw the words over Marco's shoulder. "No, you d—"

"Stop trying to frame things so it looks like _you_ were the mastermind, Ace!" the Phoenix thundered, shouting at last. "I know you, and I know you wouldn't have argued against them if they told you to go  _jump off a cliff!_ "

Sabo flinched violently, taking a step back and covering his mouth.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay lucid and remember that even though he was angry, Marco would not hurt Ace, or any of them… At least, the fire-user hoped so. The Commander was angry. He was  _really_  angry. Angrier than the fire-user had ever seen before. The Phoenix had not gotten this mad when Ace tried to assassinate Oyaji the first few times. He had not gotten this mad when the fire-user ignored him or insulted him or shoved him away these past few months. It seemed the Summer Spirit had found the blond pirate's limit, and to see him finally explode was terrifying.

Ace had to ensure  _he_  was the one to be the target of the Phoenix's rage.

_My fault. My fault. My fault my faultmyfault—_

" _I was impatient. I wanted the sand out. I had reservations and was scared—"_ It hurt so much to admit it. _"—but I didn't tell them. It's my fault."_

His fault it did not work right. His fault his friends were hurt and the room was a mess. His fault Marco was furious at his brothers and Jack was strangely quiet at his side.

The Phoenix read the words and nearly ripped the pages as his fingers clenched.

"…What were you  _thinking_?" Marco snapped, throwing the notebook to the floor. "No, you  _weren't_  thinking, yoi. If you wanted this to work you would have given it time. You would have talked with people that know far more information than you do about the sand, including Ace's bloody doctor, instead of sneaking here like children and doing a rush job." His gaze landed on Chopper and Law. "And you call yourselves  _doctors_?"

Chopper shrank in on himself.

Law stared ahead blankly, expression unreadable.

Luffy scowled. "Don't yell at my doctor!"

Marco glowered back at him, not intimidated in the least. "You don't even realize what you've done— what you  _could have_  done."

 _Please stop fighting_ , Ace silently begged.

Neither of them so much as looked his way.

The Straw Hat Captain huffed, crossing his arms. "We got a lot of the sand out. I don't see what the problem is." he said stubbornly.

There was a sharp series of  _cracks_  as ice formed over a few of Chopper's beakers, making them shatter. The humans and incognito Summer Spirit watched warily as frost rose to cover a majority of the floor. Jack looked serene, almost regal, as he recovered from his catatonia at last, patting Ace on the shoulder as he slowly stood. Even Luffy's expression grew guarded as the Winter Spirit turned to him, still calm, still  _peaceful_.

"What problem?" Jack whispered. "What _…_ problem? You…  _could have_ _ **KILLED HIM!**_ "

The last words were ripped from his throat in a guttural roar and the smaller items placed around the infirmary were thrown off their shelves in a blast of wind. Ace flinched when he heard the sound of more breaking glass, eyes widening when ice consumed the surface of nearly everything in the infirmary. The temperature plummeted, making Luffy, Law, and Koala shiver, and their breath grew visible.

"How could you—  _How could you be so_   _ **stupid**_ _?!_ " Jack continued to bellow, volume lower but no less enraged. " _Why_ would you try to operate on him like this? Did you even  _think_  about what I said in Pitch's lair? If the person is afraid, the sand will latch right back onto them,  _you idiots!_ "

Sabo and Chopper looked horrified.

Law looked apathetic.

Luffy looked stubborn. "How were we supposed to remember that?"

"If you had talked to me before trying this,  _you wouldn't have had to!_ " Jack roared, slamming his staff into the floor.

Another wave of cold shot from his weapon, making more than one person fall back a step. Ace felt a little chilled being so close to the epicenter, but he was already cold. He did not dare to show a reaction, however. Jack would be even more upset if he thought he was hurting the fire-user. Blue eyes zeroed in on Ace and he stilled, wondering if the Guardian had seen his discomfort.

" _You_  did this because you thought you had to, not because you were ready or willing." He hissed. His gaze snapped to Law, who stiffened. " _You_  did this because you were curious, not because you wanted to help." Chopper froze— thankfully not literally— beneath Jack's cold stare. " _You_  thought you could fix everything and wanted to prove to yourself that you could." Even Luffy balked as the glare went to him. " _You_  didn't even consider that there could be consequences and that this could be a mistake."

"And  _you_!" Jack turned on Sabo, making him flinch. "Don't even  _try_  to tell me you didn't think about what could go wrong. Don't try to say you  _never_  thought of potential problems. You just didn't voice them. You're supposed to be the smart one. You're the one who is supposed to think things through and consider reasons why you  _shouldn't pull stuff like this!_ "

The Revolutionary had never looked so small before. His skin was even paler than before, and his blue eyes were wide and oddly childish, dark with unvoiced hurt. Luffy's hand balled into a fist and he forced himself between Sabo and Jack, snarling at the Guardian.

"Don't talk to my brother like that!" he yelled.

If Jack did not have such good control over his powers, Ace was certain Luffy would be an ice sculpture. The Guardian's eyes were chips of ice as he beheld his youngest brother.

"You're such a  _child_." The Winter Spirit spat. "Even now, you don't  _understand_. You thought that the sand would be gone, and Ace would instantly be 'better',  _right?_  That's not how it works, Luffy, and you need to learn that you can't just get everything you want!"

The Straw Hat's face clouded, his own temper rising again.

"What's the big deal?" Luffy demanded. "Ace is fine. He  _is_  better. The surgery helped."

"That's not the point!" Jack shouted. "If you had waited, given us time, and told us about this,  _we could have made it work!_  My snowballs negate fear, and would have stopped it in Ace long enough for Law to remove all of the sand with little problems. Now he won't be able to stay calm enough for Law to even try again.  _Your impatience_ _ **ruined**_ _our best chance to get the sand out!_ "

Ace cringed as his brother's volume returned to a shout. His heart sank. Was that true? Had they failed simply because they had not spoken to the right people? Would Jack's presence and powers have helped that much?

…Had Ace doomed himself with his own cowardice and incompetence?

He should try to get the rest out. If he did, then there would not be a reason to be mad, right? He had to find a way. Then it would be worth it. Ace could not ask Law again, could not trust himself to stay calm while his life was in the other's hands. Maybe if he figured out a method to extract it himself…

Luffy and Jack continued to row, with everyone watching them in silent, fascinated horror. Their shouting had attracted the rest of the Straw Hats to the med bay, none of whom dared to intervene. Even Marco was unwilling to interrupt, observing with a neutral expression.

No eyes were on Ace. The fire-user spotted a fallen scalpel on the floor near him and snatched it up, shoving it into his pocket. There was not much sand left. He could get it out on his own, though, like Pitch had. It was just stuck in his blood. Removing the blood would remove the sand. He could do it.

If he showed that the operation had helped, that it was easy to remove the rest of the sand, he could make all this worth it.

Having a plan helped calm Ace a little, and he focused back in on the escalating argument between Jack and Luffy.

"—Not only that, but he was afraid it wouldn't work. He was afraid you'd hurt him. So guess what ended up happening?" The Winter Spirit was saying viciously. "The sand didn't even have to knock him out this time."

"How was  _I_  supposed to know Ace was scared?" Luffy hissed.

Ace considered zoning out again for his own mental health but refrained.

"If you paid attention and stopped trying to turn him back into the 'Old Ace', maybe you would have noticed!" Jack retaliated.

Luffy looked ready to slug him, and the Guardian looked ready to throw an ice-lance in his face. Ace was honestly surprised it had not come to blows yet.

 _Is this really happening?_  Ace thought faintly as the brothers continued to fight.  _I… I need to stop them. They're yelling at each other when it's my fault._

He wrote in his notebook and tried to get their attention, but was ignored again. Not even Koala or Chopper looked his way.

"Don't pretend to know Ace better than I do." Luffy said lowly, teeth bared.

"I don't have to  _pretend_. I  _do_." Jack sneered.

Something ugly entered the Straw Hat's visage. "No you don't.  _You're not my family!_ " Luffy bellowed.

Hurt flashed across Jack's expression before his face grew cold.

"You know what?  _I'm_ _ **glad**_ _I'm not anymore._ " He spat.

His blue eyes widened at nearly the same time Luffy's dark orbs did. The Straw Hat Pirate's rage drifted away, replaced by uncertainty and childlike fear.

"'Anymore'…?" he whispered. "A-Any…" His skin blanched white and his eyes grew distant. "Jack Frost… The Guardian of Fun."

Jack seemed to stop breathing.

"You're…" Luffy's mouth moved wordlessly for a moment. "You're… my oldest brother. I forgot… After Sabo… I stopped… I abandoned…" He began to shake.

Sabo strode towards the trembling rubber pirate. "Luffy—"

The Straw Hat Pirate ran.

One second he was in front of Sabo, the next he was out the door, sandals slapping against the hardwood as he fled. Ace tried to get up and follow, only for his legs to go weak, making him fall into his blond brother as he went to pursue the youngest as well.

As he tried to detangle himself, the fire-user looked pleadingly at Jack. The ships were anchored near an uninhabited island. The rubber man was likely going there,  _alone_ , where anything from large beasts to Pitch could attack him. The Guardian stared back with haunted eyes, unmoving. Then his blue orbs hardened.

"Manny curse it." The Winter Spirit snarled.

Jack took off after Luffy, a cold wind blasting in his wake.

Ace watched his older brother vanish before letting himself acknowledge his pain again. It had always been there, just shoved aside, and if he did not know better he would swear it was worse now than before. It felt like he had been stabbed in the gut with a rusty knife about a hundred times while nails were being driven through his eyes. Ace went limp on top of the Revolutionary, too tired to try to move anymore, and Sabo instantly panicked.

"Ace?!"

The blond shifted and maneuvered him so the fire-user was in his arms. Ace felt extraordinarily pitiful in that moment, but could not find the effort to pretend to be fine. Why did his entire body hurt so damn much? Why wasn't it going away? Chopper looked him over again, expression taut with concern.

"I think he could be experiencing withdrawal." The doctor mentioned. "If the sand affects his body and brain at a chemical level, it could almost be like a drug or addiction…" He stuttered to a halt as he was pinned by an icy glare.

"If you knew that, why didn't you consider it  _before_  yanking the sand from his body?" Marco asked, voice frigid.

Oh right. Apparently the Phoenix was still angry.

 _Why_ _ **wouldn't**_ _he be?_  Ace thought blearily as black spots danced in front of his eyes.  _Stay awake. I'm_ _ **not**_ _going unconscious after all this…_

Why did he ever think removing more sand would make him feel better?

Marco was staring at him again, but now he looked as tired as Ace felt. "…I am  _so_  disappointed in you." He whispered, eyes never leaving the fire-user. "I can't believe you would do something like this. I can't believe you wouldn't  _trust us enough_  to tell us before trying something like this."

The words stung, and for the first time Ace sincerely wished he would die. There was no doubt in his mind that this was his greatest screw up so far. He knew the others wanted to place the blame on the doctors and his brothers, but  _he_ was the one who agreed so quickly. He was the one who did not share his fears. He was the one who did not take the opportunity to slow things down or stop it.

Everyone was angry. Tensions were high. Allies now looked at each other coldly instead of with warmth and open arms. There was an aura of mistrust, hopelessness, and fear in the air.

And it was entirely, one hundred percent, undeniably Ace's fault.

_I have to fix this. I'll figure out a way. Somehow…_

" _I'm sorry."_  He wrote, even though he knew it would never be enough.

Marco did not respond. He gathered Ace into his arms, dismissing the fire-user's flinch and Sabo's protests. "I'm taking him to Bay." His tone dared any of them to follow.

Ace stared blankly at the ceiling, then the cloudy grey sky, as they exited the Thousand Sunny's lower decks, heading swiftly over to the Moby Dick. Mighty pirates became terrified mice before the silently fuming First Division Commander, backing far,  _far_  out of their path, not brave enough to ask what had happened.

Ace's feeling of dread increased as they entered the infirmary to find Bay and a pale Thatch waiting for them. The look on the chef's face said he either had seen what had occurred or had heard the shouting match that happened afterward. Likely the latter was the case.

Marco set Ace down, and the Summer Spirit limped to a halt before his doctor, staring at her shoes instead of her face. He saw her move and closed his eyes, waiting for the slap and contempt that he deserved. Bay did not strike him or say a single word, instead snapping her fingers to draw his attention and pointing at a bed.

Ace laid down compliantly and sank into his own mind. If he did not, he would panic again, just like the inept wimp he was. The only problem with his plan was that ignoring the world allowed him time to think and he realized…

_I still have sand in me. I still can't sleep. If I do, I'll still have nightmares. I'm still not free. It_ _**didn't work** _ _._

… _I might as well still be Pitch's prisoner. At least then I wouldn't be hurting anyone I love._

Bay continued to keep her silence, even as Ace quietly sobbed with an arm over his eyes. He could practically hear the Nightmare King's mocking voice.  _"You didn't honestly think it would be that easy, did you? Foolish boy."_

Thatch mumbled something about having to go to the kitchen before fleeing. Marco did not try to comfort the fire-user either, unreachable and furious as he stood stiffly by the door. The Summer Spirit did not blame any of them. He had really messed up this time.

 _I wanted to be whole for them._  Ace thought, trembling.  _I wanted to be better. Instead I made everything worse._

The black sand may mostly be gone from his skin but Ace felt more awful than ever.

The uneasy silence was broken by a pirate crashing through the door.

"Commander Marco! I—" He froze under the Phoenix's murderous stare.

"What is it, yoi?" Marco asked testily.

The man's throat bobbed nervously. "Y-You need to come up to the deck now. There's a ship approaching."

Ace saw Marco's irritation drain away at the urgency in the pirate's tone. Bay did not look up from what she was doing but her head tipped, suggesting she was listening in.

"A ship, yoi? A pirate ship? Is it one of the Allies?" The Phoenix asked rapidly.

The man shook his head. "No, Commander." He still looked incredibly worried.

"Marines, then?" the blond Commander growled.

Ace bit his lip, fingers twitching with nerves.

"No— Well, not exactly. It's not a Marine vessel." The pirate answered hesitantly. "We— We know who it is. He hailed us."

"'He'…?" Marco's already nonexistent patience snapped. "Spit it out then!" he said harshly.

The pirate still dithered, anxious and uncertain. His eyes flicked repeatedly to Ace.

"I— It's…" The man sighed, giving up on his internal debate at last. "It's Garp the Fist, Commander. Ace's grandfather is here."


	30. Fight

" _I'm sorry, Jack."_

_The Spirit of Winter looked down at his eleven year-old believer, taking in Ace's sad grey eyes and hopeless expression. The child looked miserable, and frustrated, and worryingly close to tears, and if not for his little brother's presence, Jack would be the same way._

_It had been months since Sabo's death, and the two remaining elder brothers had attempted to get Luffy to believe in the Guardian of Fun. Again._

_This time, Jack had been certain their plan would work. He had made it snow in the normally warm woods, covering the area near the boys' treehouse with a layer of white. Ace had brought Luffy with him to see the unexplainable phenomenon, and the Guardian had created small frost-animals before the eight year-old's very eyes, bringing them to life and having them run about the clearing._

_The entire scene had been like something out of a fairy tale or a story book, filled with magic and wonder. And yet when Ace had claimed 'Jack Frost' had done it all, Luffy refused to believe._

" _It's a mystery." The boy said instead, firmly, insistently. "Jack Frost isn't real, Ace. You're being silly."_

_Then Luffy had left them to go play in the snow, not even glancing Jack's way._

_And so Ace had apologized for failing— again. His eyes grew distant and sad— again. His little fists clenched and shook with frustration and unhappiness— again. He was upset, so very upset, that Luffy still would not believe._

_Jack did not let himself feel the same. Instead he smiled at Ace, burying his own sadness deep within his heart, and pushed him gently in Luffy's direction._

" _It's okay, kiddo. Go play with your brother."_

_Giving him one final, solemn look, Ace did. Jack silently watched the two children play in the snow and chase the animals made of frost. He watched Luffy attempt to bite one, only for it to freeze his tongue. The Guardian watched, and smiled, and laughed as they had fun. His most precious believer and the one who would not believe._

_It never snowed in the forest again._

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack found Luffy sitting on the edge of a cliff, his legs swinging in the open air. It had taken longer than the Guardian thought to hunt down the rubber pirate, but in the end he had found him high above the sea on the far end of the uninhabited island. The Winter Spirit had assumed the Straw Hat Captain would linger near the ships, but of course Luffy had trampled his expectations again, running as far as he could get from his crew and family in such an isolated area.

The Guardian walked slowly up to Luffy and sat beside him, following his gaze as they looked out at the open ocean. The rubber pirate did not turn to acknowledge him, keeping his stare straight ahead, and if not for the slight tautness in his shoulders Jack might have believed Luffy did not know he was there.

Spirit and pirate sat together in silence, watching the waves and feeling the breeze tickle their skin. Jack could not sort out his emotions to say something, so he did not speak at all. His earlier anger was dwindling away, and he was instead filled with a sense of caution and unease. In all of his worst fears and nightmares, he had never thought Luffy would remember him during an argument. He never considered the rubber pirate would recall him like  _this_.

What could he say to the brother he hurt, one who had also unknowingly hurt him?

"…I'm sorry."

Jack never knew the Straw Hat Pirate could talk so quietly. It was unnatural, and wrong, and yet the Guardian could not bring himself to speak and try to make that wrongness cease. Something inside him was clenched and he could not conjure the smile and energy to brush away his sorrow and just accept the rubber pirate's apology. Luffy continued speaking in that soft, fragile tone.

"I'm sorry I forgot you. I'm sorry I stopped believing in you. I'm sorry I left you a-alone." Luffy's voice cracked during the last sentence.

Jack kept observing the sea, watching the waves crash against the cliff. "I wasn't alone. I had Ace."

"I still abandoned you." Luffy sounded so young and small when he said that. "I remember you now. You… You're a Guardian and a Winter Spirit from Earth. Most people couldn't see you. I was one of three that could and I forgot you. Were…" He finally looked at Jack, eyes brimming with tears. "Were you there the whole time? With Ace?"

"Yes." Jack said.

Luffy slumped, staring at his feet as they swung back and forth. "I'm sorry." He repeated, as if he too could not think of what to say next.

The silence was awkward and strained, stretching out far too long to be comfortable. Jack wanted to be angry, or maybe supportive. He wanted to demand to know why the rubber pirate had refused to see him for all those years, and scathingly ask if Luffy cared so little about him that he would ignore his existence. He also wanted to comfort his little brother and tell him it was okay, that he forgave him, to move on and forget. In the end, he could not choose which side to follow, so he did not say anything.

Once again, it was Luffy who took the initiative to speak. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have believed me?" Jack asked.

The rubber pirate glanced at him before returning his gaze to the sea. "I don't think so. I was… mad at you."

Jack kept his silence, waiting for him to continue.

"I think I blamed you for Sabo dying." Luffy admitted freely. "You weren't there, and you could have been, and it hurt. But also… after Sabo died… I wanted Ace to be  _my_  brother. But he wasn't just mine. He was yours too and… you were always his favorite."

Jack blinked, surprised by the direction the conversation was going. He could see the rubber pirate struggling with himself, trying to sort through his emotions and thoughts and explain why he had acted like he had. The Guardian was a little touched that Luffy was going through such effort for his sake, not making excuses but just trying to say  _why_.

"I liked you after you rescued us from Pitch, but I didn't really like you after we found Ace." Luffy said bluntly. "He… looks at you different. He tries to hide it but he does. I can see it. He's wary around me and Sabo. He's… scared? But around you he isn't. I could see you were special to him and the others saw it too. They made me and Sabo leave when Ace starts to get really scared, but they let  _you_  stay. I didn't know why and that made me mad, but I didn't try to show it cause I saw being mad made Ace upset too." Luffy spoke rapidly, sentences going in circles as he tried to share his thoughts and observations.

His head tipped. "I think I was jealous, even back when I didn't know you were there. Ace was supposed to be  _my_ brother." Luffy sounded surprised that he could feel that way. "I shouldn't be like that. We're all brothers."

The way he spoke the word made Jack's heart feel heavy. Luffy said it so timidly and uncertainly like he was not sure what being brothers meant anymore, or if he and the Guardian could be considered siblings. The Winter Spirit exhaled and laid his staff across his lap.

"We  _are_  brothers." Jack confirmed, and the way Luffy stared at him with such hopeful eyes made him actually believe that could be true. "We may have been away from each other for a while, but Sabo was gone for a bit too and we're still his family."

"Sabo didn't remember us." Luffy pointed out. "And he isn't mad that you're taking Ace's attention."

He said it with the blunt carelessness he was known for, but his words ironically calmed the Guardian instead of angering him. They were finally getting somewhere.

"You didn't remember me either. But now you do." Jack retorted. "Now that you know who I am, are you still upset?"

"Yeah. Not as much though." Luffy admitted. "I was mostly mad because you were a stranger that Ace liked more than me. You're not a stranger. You're our brother. I'm… happy that you can be there for Ace when I can't. Like my nakama can be there for me. I just… don't feel like I know you anymore. It's not like with Sabo. He still treats me the same. You… don't. Jack is still Jack but… you're different."

He sounded so confused, like he could not make the childhood memories of Jack meld with the person beside him. Jack could understand why. He had not exactly been happy around Luffy recently, instead being more upset with the rubber pirate for not remembering him and… other things… than he probably had the right to be.

But that was in the past. Luffy did remember now. The Guardian was not certain he could forget the mistakes the Straw Hat Captain made. He was willing to look past them, though.

"Then let's start anew." Jack said eventually. "You out of all people should stop living in the past. We're together now, and you remember me, and we can spend time reconnecting if that's what you want. You're not a kid anymore and I've…"  _Seen things I never want to experience again._  "…matured. Let's just forgive, forget, and move forward, okay?"

The Straw Hat Pirate thought about it for a long time, brow furrowed in concentration. Jack let him mull it over, letting frost crackle from his staff and dust the surface of the water far below. Finally, Luffy took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

He looked at Jack and shot him a sunny grin. "Hi! I'm Monkey D. Luffy. I'm gonna be Pirate King."

Jack's own lips quirked up in a smile. "I'm Jack Frost, Spirit of Winter and Guardian of Fun. I'm going to kick Pitch Black's ass and find my way home."

"Great! We can kick his butt together!" Luffy chuckled, mood brightening. Then he paused, eyes growing distant. "Jack… Is Ace a Spirit now too? Is that how he's still… alive?"

Out of all the things Jack expected him to say next, it was not that.

Once again the rubber pirate took him off guard, stunning him with his bouts of comprehension. For a single moment the Winter Spirit considered not answering, but the look in Luffy's dark eyes made his resolve falter. The kid deserved to know the truth about his brother… especially since said truth was that Ace had in fact  _died_  for Luffy. If Jack did not confirm it, some bastard like Pitch definitely would, just to dash the tiny hope that maybe Ace had survived the ordeal at Marineford and emerged from it as a human.

The Guardian sighed, unhappy about the subject but unwilling to lie. "Yeah. Ace is the Spirit of Summer."

"…So he really did die." Luffy whispered, shoulders hunching a little. His eyes turned glassy and his lip quivered. "I wasn't strong enough. I should apologize for making him save me."

"Please don't." Jack responded. "It was his choice, and he doesn't regret it."

"Oh." Luffy said softly. "That's good. I thought he might have bla…" He trailed off, shaking his head and changing what he intended to say. "I missed Ace. I thought about him every day. And now he's back… and you are too." The rubber pirate jolted, twisting his head to look at Jack. "Ace is a Spirit too? But… Spirits work on Earth!"

Jack ran his fingers through his hair, averting his gaze to the roiling sea. "Yeah…"

The Straw Hat Pirate's face grew shadowed. "Ace is going to have to leave again?"

The Guardian winced at his hurt tone. "Yeah. Not yet, but eventually. We still need a way back to Earth. It might not even be discovered in your lifetime."

The Winter Spirit nearly smacked himself for his comment on the brevity of human lives, but Luffy was unbothered by his tactless statement on mortality.

"Does Ace want to go?" he asked quietly.

Jack thought about it, fiddling with his hoodie. "Yes, and no. He's willing, but I don't think he's ready to leave you just yet." He saw Luffy brighten again at that statement and hurried to strengthen his lightening mood. "Like I said, it's unlikely we'll leave for a while. We have time."

The Straw Hat Captain's smile was like sunlight shining through the clouds. "I'm glad. I want to get to know you again."

The strain in Jack's chest finally eased and he smiled back.

There was an earth-shaking boom, followed by the guttural roar of exploding flames. Jack and Luffy spun away from the sea to see smoke and fire stretching into the air on the far side of the island, filling the sky with flashes of black and orange. The inferno faded as quickly as it came, and was instantly replaced by a pillar of fire shooting into the atmosphere.

There were only two people who could be the source of the blaze.

Luffy and Jack shared a brief, alarmed glance before the Guardian lifted the rubber man into his arms and took off, flying in the direction of the fireball and leaving trees shuddering in their wake.

ROTGOPROTGOP

_Earlier:_

Ace was beginning to consider giving in to his exhaustion and checking out. Sure, that would be considered running away instead of facing his potential— and very real— death, but at least in nightmares, nothing that happened to him was permanent. There weren't consequences for things in dreams. But he could not escape this. This was the real world after all, and it was becoming increasingly less tolerable, approaching the point of his tamer bad dreams.

Ace's two little brothers and Marco were angry with each other. The Phoenix and Bay were also angry with the Summer Spirit. Jack had let it slip that he and Luffy— and by extension, Ace— were siblings, opening up a lot of questions for those unaware of their relationship. The rubber pirate had run off and with an island nearby, he very well may have fled right into danger with the Winter Spirit in pursuit.

And now Garp was coming. Ace's Marine grandfather was here, and the fire-user was unable to delude himself into not seeing the reason why.

_He's here for me. But to do what?_

Ace did not know. He was mostly certain his grandfather loved him, but after what happened in Marineford, he also knew the man would put his job first. The fact that Garp had come alone, in a vessel unmarked by the Navy's symbols helped ease the fire-user's concern slightly but it did not calm him. Ace had always feared Garp, just like Luffy did. His grandfather was harsh and scary, and although his training could be seen as just that, it did not stop the fire-user from feeling dread whenever he faced the Marine.

Ace could not beat Garp. He could not fight Garp. Even before Marineford and being Pitch's prisoner, his first instincts when spotting his grandfather was to run. In fact, the Fist might be the one opponent he would retreat from without a second thought back then.

There would be no running this time.

Ace knew how Garp worked. He knew it, and dreaded it. The fire-user was going to be hit. His grandfather was going to strike him, either for training or for more malevolent reasons. He was about to be beaten into a pulp and end up with contusions the size of dinner plates on his flesh— or worse. He could not fool himself into believing otherwise, and all he could think about was how much the 'training' was going to match up to his nightmares.

Fleeing was impossible, and letting himself fall unconscious would only delay the confrontation, so the fire-user would have to endure. At least he was already in pain from the botched sand removal, so a little more should not be too hard to deal with.

Ace just hoped he remembered this was real and would not get too caught up in old nightmares.

Walking along the shore of the island felt more like Ace was heading to his execution instead of going to meet Garp— and he knew from first-hand experience what the former was like. The feeling was lessened a little because Marco was at his side though, with Whitebeard and a few of the Commanders trailing around them.

The Straw Hats, Revolutionaries, and Law were there as well, likely having heard the Luffy's grandfather was coming. The fire-user was surprised they had dared to show themselves, and briefly wondered if it was to support him before dismissing such a ridiculous notion. Ace saw Chopper noticeably flinch whenever a Commander looked in his direction, and experienced a twinge of empathy for the doctor. He really would have to fix things between the two crews. If he survived this encounter, of course.

It was not like they could send the Marine away. One did not simply deny Garp the Fist, not even a Yonko.

He spotted the Marine's small ship further down the shore and could make out the large outline of his grandfather as Garp departed from it and walked towards the pirates and Revolutionaries. Ace swallowed hard, glancing back at Sabo, who met his gaze with uneasy blue eyes. The blond Logia was scared as well. Did Garp know he was alive too?

 _I have to protect him_ , Ace thought instantly. _I'll keep Garp focused on me._

He took out his notebook and wrote, hesitating for a moment before giving it to Marco.  _"I need you to tell everyone not to interfere. This is a family matter."_

The Phoenix's eyes were piercing as they met his. " _We're_ your family too, yoi."

Hearing him say that— even after everything Ace had done— made the squeezing sensation in the fire-user's chest lessen a tad. He smiled gratefully and listened as the Phoenix passed on the message. Needless to say, none of the people present were happy with his request.

"What? No! We can't just stand by and do nothing—" Haruta began to protest, only to be silenced by a look from Whitebeard.

The Yonko surveyed his youngest son and Ace held his gaze, gathering the fragile tendrils of his strengths and will and trying to convey them through his expression. He had to do this by himself. That way no one else would get hurt.

Whitebeard frowned. "We will abide to your wishes."

Ace nodded firmly. His smile vanished when he saw how close Garp had gotten. He was now able to make out the Marine's features, and they both heartened and worried him. Garp was not clothed in his Marine's uniform. He wore a simple black suit with a white shirt, his usual coat noticeably absent from his shoulders. Those shoulders were stiff, his back painfully straight, and each long stride he moved with was rhythmic and precise.

The Summer Spirit gulped and walked out from the throng of pirates and Revolutionaries, revealing himself as he separated from the group. Garp's eyes found him instantly— or maybe they had always been on him— and Ace felt his breathing hitch.

_I can do this. I'll be hurt, but I'll live. I'll endure._

They met on the open, sandy beach, not far from the others but distinctly divided from them at the same time. His grandfather never looked so tall before, not even when Ace was a small child. He loomed over the fire-user, both fists clenched, expression neutral and cold. The quiet grew tenser, almost choking, and even if Ace could talk, he knew he would be unable to. His throat seemed to close and he swallowed roughly.

"…Well?" Garp said, voice a low growl. "No hugs for your grandfather after making him worry for so long?"

Even the Ace of old would not have dared to approach. He stayed in place, struggling not to glance behind him at his friends' soothing presences. He asked them not to intervene if something happened, so he could not look to them for support. He just hoped Garp would not notice Sabo in the crowd. The Marine's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing to say, brat?" Garp asked coolly.

Ace could only stare at him, too terrified to look away long enough to write. His fingers curled around his notebook and the edge of the cover dug into his palm.

"Ace cannot speak." Whitebeard came to his rescue, a warning in his tone.

"Is that so?" his grandfather murmured softly, almost to himself. His gaze snapped back to Ace's face and the fire-user had to resist the instinct to back away. "I suppose we should  _talk_  as we always have then."

Former Vice-Admiral Garp removed his suit jacket, letting it fall to the sand.

 _He's going to fight me_ , Ace thought faintly, heartbeat speeding up.  _I can't risk letting him knock me out_.  _If I fall unconscious, I go right back into nightmares and that will make the black sand progress again. I can't let that hap—_

There was a rush of movement, and Garp's fist connected with Ace's midsection. More than one observer cried out in shock as the fire-user was thrown across the beach. His notebook flew from his hand and Ace spun through the air before hitting the sand, spinning and skidding along the ground from the force of the strike. He twisted and rolled into a crouched position, sliding to a halt.

 _I shouldn't fight back,_  was his first thought.  _If I let him beat me up, this will be over sooner. But if he knocks me out I'll fall into nightmares and he might find Sabo—_

The fire-user flung himself to the side as Garp pursued him, expression stern and harsh as he lunged for his grandson once more. Ace dodged the blow. The movement was neither fluent nor controlled. Instead he moved in a frantic, panicked lurch and he felt the air displace as Garp's fist swung past him.

 _It's real. This is real. Focus focus focus,_  Ace chanted.

He managed to stumble out of the way of two more hits before being nailed in the torso again, sent sprawling like a discarded toy. Ace hit a rock by the shore and felt it crack. He hoped the sound was not covering an accompanying crunch from a few of his ribs. As the air was forced from his lungs in a whoosh, he heaved slightly, struggling to react while also remaining in the present. He was not fighting Blackbeard or Pitch or a nightmare-created version of his grandfather. This was the real deal.

As his grandson laid there and retched, Garp did not look pleased. "You're speed has gotten better. But that's useless if you don't fight  _back!_ "

Ace got to his feet in time to avoid Garp's next attack, swaying out of the way of his punch with barely an inch to spare. He launched himself off his grandfather's arm to evade the following swing, then ducked beneath the third strike. He heard someone whistle.

"You should learn how to dodge from him." A Straw Hat Pirate— Usopp?— commented, sounding both impressed and intimidated. "Look at him go!"

Ace's distraction cost him and he took a punch to the face, sent soaring once more. He saw his orange hat flutter to the ground in his wake. He hoped he did not get blood on it. The fire-user rolled out of the way of Garp's foot as it slammed downward. He wobbled back to his feet, then leapt backwards, his grandfather's hand just missing his nose.

The Summer Spirit panted, sweat trickling down his forehead. His vision blacked out for a second and when it returned Garp's fist was heading for him. Ace lifted his arms in a cross and blocked the blow, emitting a soft gasp as the action caused pain to shoot up his bandaged forearms.

_Bay is going to be mad. But she's already mad at me…_

He did not see the next attack coming. There was a jolt of agony in his side and then he was falling, jerking to a stop as his grandfather grabbed him by the arm and lifted him into the air. Ace's shoulder screamed in torment as his arm was wrenched unnaturally in its socket. His mind went blank with terror.

Ace felt his attempts to hold his psyche together begin to fail, broken pieces crumbling away. The Summer Spirit let his body go limp and winced again, meeting Garp's eyes fearfully. He could not identify the emotion in his grandfather's dark orbs. Was it anger? Betrayal? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

 _Nightmare_? Ace thought faintly, skin going clammy and muscles going weak.  _It's just a nightmare. It'll be over soon._

" _ACE!_ "

The fire-user flinched when he heard Sabo cry out, and both he and Garp turned to see the Revolutionary break free of the crowd, running towards them. The Marine's eyes widened, then grew unreadable once more.

"So the other brat is alive, too." he murmured, almost to himself.

Something in Ace snapped. He did not know if it was his grandfather's eerily neutral tone, Sabo's appearance, or his dwindling awareness of how real his situation was, but terror gave way to desperation and a burning  _rage_.

_Stay away from him!_

Ace struck the hand holding him with a flaming palm. Not-Garp dropped him immediately, probably more out of surprise than pain. The fire-user glanced at Sabo long enough to see the Revolutionary being dragged backwards by his partner and Marco, then sprang at his grandfather. He shifted his body to avoid Not-Garp's fierce jabs, knocking one blow aside in an attempt to not be hit again. It felt like smacking a diamond cannonball but he managed to escape relatively balanced and unscathed.

Falling back into— a relatively more controlled— retreat, the Summer Spirit kicked up sand, foot literally burning, and the ground beneath them became jagged glass. A low hiss from Not-Garp told Ace at least one shard had gotten through not-his-grandfather's boot but the small injury did not slow him. The Summer Spirit himself was unharmed by the shards, his temperature high enough to keep the glass in a melted state beneath his feet.

Awareness faded further but Ace's fear did not grow like it normally did during nightmares like this. He had to protect Sabo from the Not-Garp even though none of this was real. Not only that, but his anger was getting stronger, ironically clearing his mind instead of clouding his judgement like it usually would. Ace slowly realized he was not angry because Not-Garp could be a potential threat to Sabo. He was angry at the Marine himself. As he dodged a punch aimed for his chest, the fire-user comprehended why.

 _You didn't try to help me when I was going to be executed._   _You chose your job instead of your family, just like you always have. You were going to let Luffy and I die._

_Do we mean that little to you?_

The anger was becoming overwhelming, but the Summer Spirit stayed focused. Losing himself to rage would not help him beat this foe. Ace wanted to scream his accusations at Not-Garp, to let all that rage out in shouts and furious bellows. That was impossible, so instead he attacked.

A small part of Ace whimpered that he could not win, that he never won in the nightmares, that it was better to give up and doing so would cause him less pain in the end, but he ignored it, lunging with a body lit up with flames and a snarl on his face.

The flames in his palms swirled and shifted, elongating into tendrils, and he whipped them at Not-Garp, forcing  _him_ to dodge. He followed it up with a series of huge fire blasts, with the Marine dodging each of the pillars of flames, turning the sand into smooth glass under their feet.

…Why was he fighting Garp again? Right. Nightmare. Not-Garp was after him and Sabo. Did he intend to arrest them? He was a Marine and they weren't Marines and didn't Garp let him rot in captivity before? Did the Marine want to imprison Ace again? Did he want to take Ace's freedom away like last time? The fire-user could not—  _would not_ — let him.

_I am no one's prisoner. Never again!_

He threw another fireball at not-his-grandfather, movements growing more and more furious and deadly. The next fireblast he shot at Not-Garp burst from his hands as weaving pillars of flame, pursuing his enemy across the beach like homing missiles. The nightmare must be playing tricks on him, for he thought he saw flickers of white among the orange flames. Ace shook his head to clear it and pressed on the attack.

The sky above them was slowly darkening, likely reacting to his focus and rage, and the Summer Spirit briefly pondered whether a lightning strike would bring not-his-grandfather down.

 _It won't. I can't win. I can never win,_  his doubts murmured.

Ace sneered at them.  _I don't care._

The Summer Spirit flicked his fingers and the sky split apart. The air gave a thunderous crack as the bolt struck Not-Garp, momentarily blinding Ace. When the ozone cleared, not-his-grandfather still stood, a little singed and stunned but seemingly unharmed other than some clothing damage.

The shock of the sight recalibrated the fire-user's confused mind and Ace recognized reality, comprehending that he had attacked his grandfather with the intent to kill.

Ace's arms went limp at his sides and he did not bother to move as Garp dove for him. Hands wrapped around his waist and arms and he was hoisted upward, unescapably pinned. The fire-user was lifted to his grandfather's eyelevel, staring back hollowly with glazed eyes. If it had not been Garp, he could have— would have?— likely killed his opponent with that last move. He had forgotten what he was doing, just like he feared. He forgot who he was fighting and why.

What if he had been facing someone else? What if he had been sparring with Luffy? Ace was aware enough of how his mind worked that he had no doubt he would have taken his little brother's immunity to electricity into account and summoned hellish fire to take out the fake if it was his 'brother' he had been facing. It really was true. He really was a monster. What kind of sick creature tried to kill their—?

Garp smiled, and let out a loud laugh. "Well done, brat! If I were a lesser man, that last move would've got me."

Ace gaped at him in bewilderment, eyes growing wider as the Marine hugged his grandson to his chest. He blinked, uncomprehending, while a distant part of him shrieked that he needed to break free before his grandfather had a chance to break his spine. He had almost beat Garp? Or did the Marine simply mean that he had held his own against him well enough to earn praise? Ace had never done that before, and found himself uncertain on how to react.

The Summer Spirit could hear Garp's steady heartbeat but could not make himself relax. They had just been fighting. His grandfather had been angry, and so had Ace. Was everything meant to be okay now? The fire-user thought he had done something wrong again…

" _That's_  what I wanted to see. You've gotten stronger, brat." The former Vice-Admiral continued proudly. "Even without my training, you've improved. Though I suppose you had to…"

The arms holding Ace began to shake, and he felt large teardrops drip on his head. The fire-user looked up to see the mighty Fist weeping in a most undignified manner, nose quickly turning red.

"…I'm so sorry I failed you." He sobbed. "I'm sorry I didn't help you."

Ace glanced around uncertainly, meeting Sabo's puzzled eyes. The Revolutionary looked as flabbergasted as the fire-user felt. He was still awake, right? Had he unknowingly fallen into some weird dream? If Pitch wanted him to be disturbed and confused then the Nightmare King was succeeding.

The Summer Spirit cast aside such a silly line of thought and awkwardly patted his grandpa's side. His arms were still mostly trapped by the large man so he could not return the embrace even if he had the rationality to consider doing so. Garp may have taken that as forgiveness for he sobbed harder, alarming and confusing the fire-user even more.

The Marine eventually set him down, clearing his throat. His fist swung downward but Ace was still on edge. He dodged the blow and bared his teeth threateningly to cover up his anxiety.

Garp laughed again. "You've definitely gotten better, brat. Don't expect me to go easy on you next time." He grinned widely. "I wonder if the other brats will fare as well."

His gaze landed on Sabo, who showed his unshakable bravery by attempting to hide behind Koala. The orange-haired Revolutionary was not amused.

The former Vice-Admiral snorted, shifting his gaze to Whitebeard and greeting him at last. "Newgate. I'd like to know how my dear grandson is alive, along with where he has been these past three years if you don't mind. I assure you, I am not here as a Marine so there is no need to worry about me doing my job." His tone was friendly, but a little terse.

Whitebeard nodded cordially, yellow eyes glinting slightly with a repressed bloodlust. Ace wondered how many times the Yonko had to resist the urge to interfere in the battle. His heart warmed that his Oyaji cared, but had trusted him to deal with Garp himself.

"You may come aboard my ship and we can talk." Whitebeard offered. "I do not know if you have been keeping up with the news, but there are a few things I believe you should know about a certain ally of the Word Government."

Garp's eyes narrowed suspiciously but he gave a grunt of acceptance. "Sure."

It was in that moment that Luffy decided to burst out of the foliage, emerging from the tops of the trees with a wild look in his eyes. The rubber pirate descended clumsily and bounced off the ground a few times as he took his graceless dive, halting before Garp and Ace. When Luffy spotted his grandfather, his confused look was immediately replaced by an expression of pure terror.

"G-Gramps?!" he squeaked.

Jack flew out of cover after the rubber pirate, spotted Garp, and sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "Of course…"

The Marine barely spared the Guardian a second glance, looking between the Revolutionary and the Straw Hat Pirate. "…After my other two grandsons have  _their_  training sessions."

He grinned at the two younger brothers, who paled. Ace whacked his grandfather none-too-lightly on the leg, not in the mood to watch his siblings get thrown across the island. On the one hand, it would be amusing, but on the other, the fire-user was still buzzing and twitchy from their fight, and doubted he would remain lucid while watching his brothers get pummeled. Ace knew he would lose track of reality and violently interfere to 'save' his siblings. And this time he might summon fire-rain instead of a lightning bolt.

Garp studied his grandson's face for a moment, perhaps spotting the stress lingering under the surface, and something in his gaze softened.

"Later then." He conceded.

Garp strode over to Whitebeard and they returned to the Moby Dick, conversing softly and leaving a stunned Sabo and Luffy behind.

Jack voiced what they were obviously thinking. "What just happened?"

Ace shrugged.

Sabo grabbed him by the shoulders, wild blue eyes inches from his flame-colored orbs. The fire-user did not even twitch.

"Do you think the magic way to get to Earth is open yet?" the Revolutionary asked rapidly. "I think we should get on Luffy's ship and go find it. Now. Right now."

Ace raised an eyebrow at him.

"I agree with Sabo. Let's take Sunny and run." Luffy said eagerly.

Ace grabbed his littlest brother by his collar, keeping him from bolting to his ship. For good measure, he grabbed Sabo as well, and dragged them towards the Moby Dick. His brothers yelped and flailed comically while Jack floated behind them, laughing his head off.

"Oh no! Ace turned against us." Luffy wailed.

"He's just being petty and smug because he didn't get beaten into a pulp for once,  _and_  he doesn't have to fight the Old Man later." Sabo complained, wiggling furiously in an attempt to get out of Ace's hold. He failed. "Come on, Ace. You're supposed to  _protect_  us from him!"

 _I had my turn training with Gramps. You have to have your turn too. It's only fair_ , Ace thought.

He wished he could share the words, but had a feeling his notebook was now a pile of ashes or mush. Hopefully he would be given a new one, probably from Bay. Ace glanced down at himself and cringed, spotting bruises already forming on his skin.

_She won't be_ _**too** _ _mad, right?_

Ace returned his attention to his brothers and smirked at them unapologetically. He lifted a squawking Luffy up on one shoulder, and adjusted his hold on Sabo so the Revolutionary could not just discard his coat to break free. The lingering Straw Hat and Whitebeard Pirates sniggered or cackled at the brothers as they passed. Even Law was smirking rather viciously, with Baby Tooth nearly falling from his hat as she laughed.

Marco was one of the few not smiling, though when Ace caught his gaze, he nodded in slight approval. It was enough to tell the Summer Spirit that the Phoenix was still upset, which reminded Ace of why, and the other  _little_  fact he had been ignoring.

 _I attacked Garp with the intent to kill. I forgot I was awake. I-I could have—_  The fire-user took a breath and stubbornly stopped his stress from ruining the moment.  _Later._   _I'll deal with it later._

He continued to pull his reluctant siblings along, barely noticing their struggles. None of the observers lifted a single finger to help, despite Luffy's pleas for assistance.

"Lock them in the brig so they can't escape." Was the only piece of support thrown at the brothers.

Ace nodded in response to the advice, then did a double take as he gaped at the speaker.

Why was Vista covered in purple glitter?

Jack's smirk grew into a triumphant Cheshire grin.

Meanwhile, Luffy realized he was being left to his fate. He drooped pathetically. " _Nooooooo_ … I don't want any Fists of Love…"

Ace shook his head affectionately, catching Jack's eye. They grinned at each other, coming to a silent agreement. It was official. Their brothers were just adorable.

ROTGOPROTGOP

She was confused. She was also not.

She was lonely. Yet she wasn't alone.

She was sad. But the sadness was not hers?

She stood before a gate, back stiff, eyes forward, ignoring the ever-present whispers that came from within the prison.

She heard the Fearlings threaten  _her-him_  in loud snarls. She heard them plead in whining, fragile whimpers, feigning weakness and desperation. She heard them soothe in low, silky purrs, trying to convince her to open the door, because they were not  _her-his_  enemy, truly they weren't. When she did not, they returned to ranting and screaming, throwing themselves against the gate to their prison in fury.

She ignored them, and thought of  _her-his_  daughter, one hand almost always around the locket draped from  _her-his_ neck. The golden pendant brought her comfort and strength, and so  _they?_  continued their lonely vigil.

"Father?"

The voice that came from behind  _her-him_  was achingly familiar and  _they?_  stiffened.

"Father!"

The call came again and  _she-he_  turned, terror rising within  _her-him_.

"Father,  _help!_ "

This time  _her-his_  daughter's voice was a scream, filled with pain and fear, and before  _she-he_  could think,  _they?_  was racing to the door.  _Her-his_  daughter was in there. Emily Jane was trapped with the monsters. Frantic and desperate to save  _her-his_  daughter from a gruesome demise,  _they?_  flung the door open.

The Fearlings raced out by the thousands, freed once more, and devoured  _her-him_  in an instant. The creatures clawed at  _her-his_  mind, showing flashes of horrors  _she-he_  could not comprehend.  _They?_  saw planets ripped apart, civilizations fall, millions overcome by endless darkness.  _They?_  saw her-his daughter die. Again again again.  _They?_ was helpless to prevent it.  _They?_  could not stop it.  _They?_  could only live through it— except they weren't living at all— watch it— like memories made of fire, burning through  _their?_  thoughts—, repeat it, until  _her-his_  mind fractured and cracked, letting the darkness into  _his_  soul.

Tooth was yanked from the mind she had shared before the darkness could grab her too.

From her new position as a helpless, invisible ghost, she could only watch in horror as Kozmotis Pitchiner died, writhing and screaming as he was transformed slowly into the Nightmare King. The violent change only lasted a few seconds, but to the both of them it lasted  _years_ , with the Fearlings taking everything that made the Hero of the Golden Age and warping it into something unrecognizable.

Love became hate. Joy became anger. Good became evil. Courage became fear.

When the monster was finally formed, built from the broken pieces of a once-good man, Tooth could only observe as Pitch Black opened silver-gold eyes.

The Nightmare King screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

And then Pitch  _laughed_ as the shadows swallowed him whole.

" _Tooth!_ "

The Guardian of Memories woke with a jolt, sitting upright with a fist swinging. The man above her yelped as she socked him in the nose, hastily retreating out of range. Someone else laughed at his misfortune, and the Fairy's eyes snapped to the red-haired man for a moment before moving on, swiftly taking in her surroundings.

Tooth breathed heavily, eyes darting about, and slowly relaxed as she recognized North and Bunny among those crowed around her. She appeared to be in an infirmary of sorts, though even with her companions seemingly at ease, she decided to err on the side of caution, keeping her eyes on the strangers in the room.

One was a man with long blonde hair in a bandanna that flaunted a Jolly Roger. One was a grey-haired man. And the third was the red-haired man she vaguely remembered from before…

… _From before I was hit by the black sand._

"What happened?" was her first question.

"Who are you?" was her second.

The Guardian of Memories reached for her swords and was relieved to find them at her sides, along with the precious diamond dagger. The men had not disarmed her, and North and Bunny were at ease— at least, as at ease as the Pooka could ever be— so she guessed they were among allies.

"You got hit by some black sand, courtesy of an exploding Nightmare." North said bluntly, confirming her suspicions before moving on to her second query. "This is Benn, the First Mate—" He pointed at the grey-haired man. "—James, the doctor—" The bandanna-wearing man she had punched waved at her. "— and Shanks, the Captain of the ship we're on. They're pirates. And friends."

Tooth nodded slowly, mind still muddled. Then her eyes widened and she stared at the red-haired man. "Shanks?  _You're_  Shanks? The cabin boy? B-But…" She paused in her undignified spluttering, quickly remembering her manners. "Er. It's so nice to finally meet you. Manny told us about you."

"Nice to meet you as well." The red-haired pirate replied, looking amused by her reaction.

The Fairy felt a trickle of embarrassment, but smiled softly. "So you're a Captain now?"

"Yup. A Yonko as well." Shanks said with an easy grin. "Your friends were surprised too. It's too bad you missed out on our initial meeting since you were sleeping. The Pooka over here tried to stab my eye out with a boomerang."

He pointed at Bunny, who huffed. "A strange bugger was near my knocked out friend. Sorry if I reacted violently."

Shanks grinned good-naturedly. "It's all good." He turned back to Tooth. "It's been about a day since you got knocked out. You need to play a game of catch up. We've been swapping stories."

He threw his arm around Bunny's shoulders. The Pooka looked ready to commit murder.

Tooth attempted to sort through her thoughts, pushing the nightmare she experienced further into the back of her mind. "Where are we headed?"

"To Ace. He's on Whitebeard's ship, the Moby Dick." North reported, giving off a jolly chuckle. "Things would have been much easier if we let these men catch up to us, it seems."

"Really?" Tooth asked, shocked. "We… We know where he is? Just like  _that_?"

After all the trouble they went through, they had finally found one of the people they sought, completely by chance. It almost seemed too good to be true. Tooth believed the pirate though. If the Man in the Moon said Shanks could be trusted, then he could be.

"Just like that." Shanks confirmed. "I still don't know if you evaded us out of planning or luck. Your flight path was… erratic."

"We got lost and we had no idea how to find any of you." Tooth admitted flatly, glancing at North. "I'm afraid we are not as effective searchers here as on Earth."

"I like you." The Yonko burst out laughing at her dry statement. "Once James clears you, how about we go up and meet the rest of my crew and we'll catch you up on everything."

"That sounds nice." The Fairy agreed.

Ten minutes later, Tooth smiled distantly as she followed them to the crew of the Red Hair Pirates. She was completely fine, with no more nasty symptoms from coming into contact with the sand. The Guardian of Memories had already guessed that, of course, but it was nice to have confirmation that she would not be returning to nightmares again any time soon.

 _Except that wasn't a nightmare…_  she thought as she trailed behind Shanks.

She did not want to think about what she saw— what she experienced. When Tooth had some time alone, perhaps she would, but truthfully she wanted to just forget what had happened. She wanted to deny what she had dreamt about, and erase it from her memories.

Tooth always knew Pitch's origins were horrific, but she never knew he was transformed like  _that_.

_The Fearlings_ _**tore him apart.** _

_Don't think about it._

So she didn't, instead studying the Captain before her more closely. If Tooth had to hazard a guess, she pinpointed him to be in his late thirties, early forties. It was so strange to see a red-haired, powerful man when Manny had described a red-haired, inexperienced teenager in a straw hat who was nothing more than a cabin boy, but it made sense. Humans changed over time.

And it had been over twenty years since the Man in the Moon last met the Roger Pirates after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. The past few days have been hectic.


	31. Mistrust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Dark chapter. Thoughts/Descriptions of self-harm. Not-graphic. Read at your own discretion.

The room was dark, with deep shadows masking the walls and making the space seem both larger and smaller all at once. The lamp upon Marco's desk was not nearly enough to hold back the darkness but he made do, leaning close and letting the light illuminate the paper he was holding. The Phoenix sighed, rubbing at his eyes before squinting at the report again. It may be about shipping costs or something. He could not tell. The letters danced and blurred before his eyes, remaining illegible no matter how long he stared at them.

Marco gave an irritated grunt and cast the sheet aside, placing it in the teetering pile of papers he had to still go through. The dull pain behind his eyes was getting worse and he futilely pressed a hand to his forehead. The pressure did nothing to dim the ache. Normally the Phoenix would see this as a sign to stop and go take a break, but stubbornness kept him in place. He had put off much of his work as the First Division Commander for far too long and needed to get this done.

Marco picked up another report and stared uncomprehendingly at it, grumbling lowly. His annoyance spiked when someone knocked on his door. The Phoenix stood, shoving his chair away from the table with more force than necessary and stalked over to the door, yanking it open.

" _What?_ "

Thatch raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "Well aren't you a ray of sunshine this morning." He lifted the tray he was carrying higher. "I have brought a mighty offering of food to appease our grumpy Turkey-God. Are you appeased or do I need to go find a human sacrifice?"

"Funny, yoi." Marco growled. He waved at the desk. "Put it there."

The chef did as he asked and wandered over to plop down on the Phoenix's bed. He cocked his head, eyes focused on Marco's face. "You look like shit." He commented bluntly.

"Thanks." Was the Phoenix's snide reply.

He sat at the desk and picked at his food. It was a nice meal. Eggs, toast, sausage, and some fruit. As he stiffly ate the eggs, he was surprised when Thatch did not make a mock-horrified comment about cannibalism like he was wont to do. Instead the chef continued to watch him, expression solemn. Marco was not in the mood for conversing so he busied himself with the toast and ignored Thatch completely.

"…Ace has been looking for you, you know." The chef said suddenly.

Marco could feel Thatch's eyes on the back of his head. He did not turn around. "Did he say that, yoi?"

"Well, no." The Fourth Division Commander admitted. "But I know he scans the rooms he's in for you. Like the mess hall. You missed lunch. And dinner. And breakfast."

Marco viciously stabbed a bit of egg with his fork. "I've been here, catching up on my duties. Ace knows where my room is. If he wants to, he can find me here, yoi."

"That's not the point and you know it." Thatch said. "He knows you're angry with him. You also know Ace is probably too scared to confront you. He probably thinks you hate him."

"I don't hate him, yoi." Marco stated.

"But you  _are_  mad at him. And that might be worse." Thatch retorted. "It's been  _three days,_  Marco. You've been  _avoiding_  Ace for three days."

"So?" the Phoenix asked coolly. "He's fine, yoi. He has his brothers with him. He doesn't need me around, and I may as well use the time I have to catch up on all of this." He gestured at the reports.

Thatch stared at him. "And here I thought Ace was good at lying to himself. Admit it: you're still angry about the operation."

The fork in Marco's hand snapped in half. He had half-a-mind to apologize for the destruction of the utensil but the thought was pushed away by a simmering rage. He spun in his chair to face the chef, who met his glare steadily.

"Yes. I  _am_  still angry." He hissed. "Am I not allowed to be, yoi? Am I supposed to be the bigger man?"

"Of course not." Thatch said, raising his hands in a calming motion. "I'm just trying to understand. You're usually more… mellow than this. More forgiving." His expression clouded and a miserable air overtook his visage. "Are you angry at him because of what we learned, too?"

Marco's gaze shifted back to the paperwork, and his stomach twisted. He knew better than to blame the food for his discomfort and instead closed his eyes, recalling the conversation they had with a certain Winter Spirit right before everything went wrong.

_When Marco led Jack into Thatch's room, with the chef waiting inside, the Winter Spirit gave an exaggerated gasp, clapping his hands together in delight._

" _Marco!" he said dramatically. "I thought you wanted to keep me away from Thatch. Is this a meeting of great trickster minds? Are you secretly a prankster, too? I'm so proud!" He wiped away an imaginary tear._

_Thatch matched Jack's grin. "I like you."_

_The Phoenix rolled his eyes. "I swear you two are going to be the death of me, yoi." he said flatly. "But no, that's not the reason I asked to speak with you."_

" _I guessed as much." Jack said with a careless shrug. He leaned against the wall by the door, arms crossed and staff held casually in his right hand. "What's up?"_

 _Marco and Thatch glanced at each other. The chef nodded firmly and the Phoenix sighed, turning back to the Winter Spirit._ " _We just have some questions, if you wouldn't mind answering them."_

_Piercing blue eyes studied him, as if they were seeing into his thoughts. Then Jack nodded. "Sure. I might not answer though. Depends on what you ask."_

_The ice-user's tone held no malice or insinuated threat like some might when facing an interrogation from strangers. Then again, Marco was uncertain they_ were _strangers to the Winter Spirit._

_The Phoenix decided to cut right to the chase. "I know you were there at Marineford, yoi."_

_Other than a slight tension in his posture, Jack's visage did not change. He eyed Marco neutrally, which was a telling difference from the usual mischievousness that shone in his blue orbs. "That's not a question."_

" _Indeed." Marco agreed. "I just wanted to thank you. Your interference saved Oyaji's life, yoi."_

_Jack shifted his weight, settling more comfortably against the wall. "You're welcome, I guess. But I didn't do it for him."_

" _You did it for Ace." Marco guessed. The sharp look he received confirmed it. "How do you know him?"_

 _The Winter Spirit was silent, studying them like he was trying to see into their souls and discern their motives._ " _You know what? Tell me what you think you know, and I'll confirm or deny it." Jack decided. He smirked. "No games, I swear."_

_Marco and Thatch exchanged another glance._

" _All right, yoi." The Phoenix agreed. "We know you were at Marineford. You have powers over ice and snow. You've known Ace for a long time, and have been with him ever since he fought Oyaji. You were invisible for some reason. You know Pitch Black somehow. And…" Marco hesitated before continuing. "You're both Spirits. What is a 'Spirit', Jack?"_

_The Winter Spirit looked at him, suddenly seeming decades older than his apparent age. The intensity of his stare was just enough to make Marco feel slightly uncomfortable, as if he were facing a fierce winter storm that would not hesitate to strike him down if he proved to be lacking._

_"You're right about all that." Jack confirmed vaguely. "As for what a Spirit is… I'm not sure I should tell you."_

" _Why?" Thatch asked._

_Jack frowned. "Because Ace hasn't. Since he hasn't, there's a reason why."_

_Marco felt frustration bubble up in his chest but he held it back. An idea popped into his mind and he ran with it. "You weren't joking about your age that day you came here, yoi. You really are over three hundred, aren't you?"_

_The Winter Spirit kept silent, but the flicker of emotion in his eyes gave him away. More pieces were coming together, and Marco shared them as they fell._

" _You and Pitch are both Spirits. You both cannot be seen sometimes. You have great power, and are immortal—"_

" _Pitch is immortal?" Thatch interrupted, eyes wide._

" _It's more like eternal youth than real immortality. Spirits can still be killed if they take enough damage." Jack revealed. "It's sort of a 'never age and hard to kill' type of immortality than 'invincibility' immortality'..." He froze, eyes going wide as he realized what he just confirmed._

_Marco pinned him with perceptive blue eyes. "Except for Pitch."_

_The Winter Spirit winced. "And a few others but… Yeah, pretty much. He's so strong now, most stuff won't kill him."_

" _How does one become a Spirit?" Marco shot at him._

" _I'm not answering that." Jack said flatly._

" _Why not?" Marco challenged, voice rising slightly. "Is it because_ _ **Ace**_ _is a Spirit too?"_

_Thatch stared at the Phoenix, eyes round with shock. Marco did not return the chef's gaze, instead glowering at Jack and daring him to refute his claim._

_The Winter Spirit sighed. "…I guess you figured it out."_

_Marco's heart somehow managed to rise and sink at the same time. He was pleased he had finally gotten some answers, but alarmed that he had indeed been correct._

" _Yes. Now, please tell me what a Spirit is." He almost begged. "What does being one mean for Ace?"_

_Jack was looking more and more uncomfortable. "I shouldn't." he said softly. "This is stuff Ace should tell you himself. I'm sorry."_

_The genuine apology did not help to lessen Marco's dismay._

" _I know. I **know** , okay? But the point is that Ace is _ _ **afraid**_ _to tell us. That— That scares me, yoi." Marco admitted. "Do you know what I'm thinking? Do you know what conclusions I'm drawing because I don't know what's going on?"_

_Jack seemed torn between wanting to know and the desire to plug his ears and not hear the answer._

" _My little brother seemingly died. After three years, he turns up out of nowhere after being tortured and kept captive. He's hurt and scared and has strange powers I don't know the source of. He's upset whenever people talk about him rejoining the crew, and he acts like we're going to disappear, yoi. And I don't think that last bit is just because of trauma." Marco took a breath, then spoke in a voice he could not stop from shaking. "The one who turns people into Spirits… has he enslaved my brother?"_

" _ **What?**_ _" Jack gasped, eyes going wide. "No! Manny would never—"_

_His mouth clamped shut and Marco felt his curiosity— and worry— grow. "Please explain all of this to me." He was definitely begging now. "_ _**Please** _ _, yoi."_

_Jack was still uncertain. His sight flicked between Thatch and Marco and he bit his lip._

"… _Fine." He said quietly. "I won't explain everything. Just some of the stuff I guess you should know." He took a breath. "I… am not from this world. No Spirits are, except Ace. I come from a planet called Earth, which is protected from malevolent Spirits like Pitch by a group called the Guardians. Spirits are immortals who perform tasks around Earth. Some become legends on their own somehow, but most are chosen by the oldest and most powerful Spirits to become immortal."_

_The Winter Spirit twirled his staff and tapped it near the doorframe, letting frost trickle onto the wall. Before Marco and Thatch's shocked eyes, the little rabbit picture he created came to life, hopping around the room before vanishing into bluish-white particles._

" _Some Spirits, like me, control nature. Others bring gifts to children, and help fuel the wonder and magic in our world. Others don't quite have a purpose per se, but have their own little niche of power. Spirits can only be seen by children who believe in them on Earth. The Guardians are select group of Spirits created by a powerful Spirit known as the Man in the Moon, Tsar Lunar, also known as Manny. Manny's cool. A bit quiet but still a nice guy. But just because a Spirit was created by him, does not mean they will immediately become a Guardian. I myself was created by both Manny and the most powerful Nature Spirit on Earth: Mother Nature. I am both the Guardian of Fun and the Spirit of Winter. I protect children from the likes of Pitch and control Winter on Earth. That's my job."_

" _More than two decades ago, I was accidentally sent here, to this world." Jack continued, and Marco almost felt like he was listening to a bedtime story. "Manny could see me here, but he could not bring me home. I found Ace— he was a baby back then— and he saw me instantly. It was… difficult for people to see me, so for the longest time he remained my only believer on this planet. He helped Sabo and Luffy believe in me… but then Sabo died, and Luffy stopped being able to see me. For years, Ace was my only believer, the only person who knew I existed. Even when he was an adult, he never stopped seeing me."_

_The Guardian's face darkened. "Then Marineford happened. When I saw Ace get hurt by Akainu, I begged Manny and Mother Nature to do something. At first, I thought they couldn't help but then… right after Ace died…" Jack met Marco's eyes once more. "They turned Ace into the Spirit of Summer."_

_Marco felt something clench inside him as he took in the words. Ace really had died. He really had been killed by Akainu. But he had been resurrected— turned into a Spirit— by a distant omnipotent force. Two of them, in fact. The thought was… both awe-inspiring and terrifying._

" _So Ace is immortal?" Thatch asked shakily. He forced a grin onto his face. "Well, maybe you won't be alone eventually after all, eh Marco?"_

_The Phoenix scowled at him, while Jack shot him a curious look. "I haven't aged since eating my Devil Fruit, yoi. But that is not what we're discussing, Thatch."_

_Thatch shrugged, smiling awkwardly. "Just trying to lighten the mood." His feeble attempt at mirth faded. "So what does all that mean for Ace?"_

_The Guardian of Fun gripped his staff, frost crackling along the wood. "It means that once Manny and the others figure out a way to get me back to Earth, Ace is going to have to go with me. If he was a lesser Spirit, they would probably let him stay here until all of you were…" He paused. "… gone, but since he is the Spirit of Summer— one of the Four Seasons— he has to herd and control Summer. He… has to leave."_

" _Oh." Thatch whispered, understanding dawning on his face._

_Marco himself felt empty, even as a few of his suspicions were confirmed. "I think I see why he is being so secretive now." He murmured. "He thinks we'll hate him, doesn't he?"_

" _That's ridiculous!" Thatch burst out. "I don't care if he's a Spirit and has to go at the drop of a hat. He's still Ace, our little brother." He blinked, abruptly uncertain. "He_ _ **does**_ _know we won't hate him, no matter what, right?" Thatch asked the Winter Spirit, nearly pleading._

" _Yeah. Deep down, I think he knows you'll accept him." Jack said. "But… Once you know…_ _ **He'll**_ _have to acknowledge that it's true."_

He'll have to acknowledge that he has to leave you all one day,  _was left unsaid._

_Marco did not quite know how to feel. He was glad to finally know more about Ace's situation, but said situation still terrified the Phoenix. It was true that this 'Manny' sounded benevolent, but the blond pirate had noted the lack of assurance about 'Mother Nature', and how her 'gift' was what was forcing Ace to go to Earth in the end. It was not slavery like Marco had feared in his darkest moments, but the fire-user did not exactly have a choice. He had a feeling Jack would still be there to help Ace though, so at least there was that._

_Thatch clapped his hands together. "Okay then. You know what we have to do, right?"_

_The other two occupants of the room stared at him blankly._

_The chef sighed. "You two are hopeless. Marco, you and me are going to tell Ace we know this. Straight up. No crypticness."_

_The Phoenix's lips twitched. "'Crypticness' is not a word."_

" _It is now." Thatch declared. "The point is, we're going to tell Ace we know and we love him anyway. I should make a bright sign that says that so maybe he'll understand."_

" _You can't use any glitter. It's gone." Jack said casually, a smile slowly crossing his face._

_Thatch smirked wickedly and slung an arm across his shoulders. "You and I shall bring all before us to their knees!" he proclaimed. "I wish I could've seen you sooner." He frowned. "I wonder what changed."_

" _I think you have Pitch to thank for that." Jack mentioned, grin vanishing as his eyes narrowed. "People— including adults— only started to see me_ _ **after**_ _he showed up. Fear is easier to believe in than fun after all." The way he said the last sentence was rather bitter._

_Thatch gave him a friendly shake. "Don't worry about it. Let's go find our evasive little brother, shall we?"_

_That plan had been discarded as soon as they stepped out the door, when a cook ran up to tell Thatch he was needed in the kitchen. The chef had reluctantly left, and Marco and Jack had continued to search. They had eventually discovered Ace was on the Thousand Sunny and gone there… and then revealing Marco knew the truth had become the last thing on their minds._

When Marco and Jack had stumbled upon the operation and realized what the Straw Hats were doing, the first emotion the Phoenix felt was hurt. When he had seen Ace writhing and thrashing on the operation table, he instantly knew what had happened, what had  _not_  happened, and why. The fire-user was undergoing surgery to remove the black sand. The kid had not trusted the First Division Commander enough to come to him before even thinking about trying such a thing.

Just like Ace didn't trust Marco enough to tell him he was a Spirit.

Was Ace afraid the Phoenix would try to stop the operation? Was he afraid the pirate wouldn't?

Was he afraid Marco would reject him for no longer being 'human' and for having to 'abandon' them in the future? Or did he keep his secrets in an attempt to keep the Phoenix happy and oblivious?

Either way, Ace did not trust Marco, and that knowledge hurt worse than any wound the Phoenix could receive. So here he was, sitting in his room and avoiding the Summer Spirit while Thatch looked at him with disappointed, accusing, and knowing eyes.

Marco broke the staring contest first. "I don't know why you're judging me, yoi. You haven't told Ace you are aware of the truth yet either."

"You bet I haven't." Thatch stated. "If I tell him I know and you know now, I have a pretty good idea what he's going to think." The chef did not wait for a response, throwing his hands into the air. "If he learns you know while you're angry with him, he'll think you're disgusted with him and hate him for being a Spirit along with everything else you're mad about. Do you realize how careful Jack and I have had to be not to let it slip that you know? He'll assume the worst, and that will just make  _everything_  worse, Marco!" He scowled, an expression rarely seen on the cheerful pirate's face. "And you never answered my question.  _Are_  you angry at Ace because he's a Spirit?"

"No… and yes." Marco said stiffly. "I'm not upset because he was changed due to something out of his control, but I  _am_  angry he did not trust us enough to share that information, yoi."

"It's  _Ace_." The chef emphasized. "He's always had trust issues like this."

"Not big enough that he would sneak behind our backs to get a risky operation done." Marco replied bitterly, thoughts circling back to the other reason he was avoiding the fire-user.

The Phoenix could still feel the cold grip of betrayal he had experienced when he and Jack had stumbled upon the scene, echoes of hurt and the pure terror he had felt making his hand shake. He could not let this go. He wanted to, but Ace's choices and mistrust in him cut deeper than he thought was possible. Marco was not a good enough person to forgive him yet, and was horribly aware of that fact.

Thatch continued to look at him with those sad eyes, genuinely heartbroken by his brother's action. Marco was above being pushed into changing his mind because of a miserable expression, however.

"Don't tell me you blame Ace for that." Thatch said.

"I do, yoi." Marco said in a clipped voice, returning to his reports. "Him and the others that were involved. I still can't believe they were so  _stupid_."

"They weren't thinking. And Ace was desperate." Thatch said sympathetically. "I'm not surprised he jumped at the chance to remove the sand. They're young, Marco. They make mistakes."

"They do. So we need to make sure they learn from them, yoi." The Phoenix said icily.

He glowered at the page, realizing he had input the wrong amount. He furiously crossed out the number and wrote the correct one.

Thatch put his hand over the paper, making Marco glower at him. The chef gnawed on his lip. "You're going to make Ace 'learn' by  _ignoring_  him? And it's only Ace you're punishing by doing this, too." His tone was accusing.

Marco gave a mirthless laugh. "Oh yes, because I can order two Captains, a Revolutionary, and a doctor from another ship to clean the deck without repercussions. They're not part of this crew, but they're also Ace's family, yoi. I can't touch them, or punish them. If anyone else had tried what they did, we'd probably beat up or kill the lot of them and be done with it."

"Anyone else isn't a crewmate's brother and his friends." Thatch pointed out.

"And  _that's_  the problem, isn't it?" Marco hissed.

The chef sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "So you're just going to keep punishing Ace alone because he didn't trust us and messed up, while the others involved get away scot free. Don't you realize how backwards and horrid that is?"

"Trust me, if I could get away with it I'd throw them all in the brig." Marco muttered under his breath.

Thatch stared at him wordlessly, looking lost. Then he shook his head. "At least consider talking to Ace. Please. I'm no doctor or fortune teller, but I know if you don't do something things will only get worse."

"I can make my own decisions, yoi." Marco said harshly, expression still set in a glare. "And I will talk to Ace when I want to, and not a second before. I'm not ready to forgive him, Thatch."  _Not when we almost lost him again._

The chef's face grew shadowed, eyes burning, and the Phoenix leaned backwards. Suddenly it was not the chipper prankster standing before him, but the Fourth Division Commander, wearing a harsh expression he only donned when facing an enemy in battle.

"Fine. Be like that. I don't care." Thatch said, voice trembling with a mixture of sadness and rage. "I swear if something happens to Ace because you didn't talk with him, I won't forgive you."

He stormed off and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Marco alone in his room.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace was not upset. He was not in denial about being upset either. Sure, the smiles he put on felt a little fake and strained, but he could blame that on Garp's unnerving presence, not his own distress.

It had been five days since Ace's 'training session' with his grandfather and he could not claim that relations between himself, the Straw Hats, and the Whitebeard Pirates had improved. The aftermath of the fight had brought some unity and merriment to the pirates, but the air was still tense. It was not noticeable to the casual observer, but something had shifted between the crews.

One of the most obvious was that Ace was not allowed to go onto the Thousand Sunny with just his brothers anymore. A long time ago he might have muttered at being treated like a child, but now he meekly accepted it whenever someone dissuaded him from traveling to the other ship, or insisted they come along. The fire-user was uncertain if it was an order that had a Commander appearing to block his way whenever he went somewhere he was not 'allowed' to or if the pirates had merely taken it upon themselves to keep him out of trouble. Either way, it was only succeeding in making Ace feel worse.

_They're still angry. They don't trust my brothers because of what I did. It's my fault._

If Ace had ever foolishly believed that Garp's surprising appearance would make them forget, he was sorely mistaken. After the fight, Bay had been… upset with his newest bruises to say the least. Luckily for Ace, the doctor had directed her ire at his grandfather, ranting at him while removing the glass shard stuck in his foot.

It was entertaining to not be at the receiving end of her anger for once, but the stiff glances she shot his way told the Summer Spirit she was still fuming about the operation. Ace knew he hurt her by going behind her back like he did, but she was giving him a chance to make things better. Even after screwing up so badly, Bay could bear to be in the same room with him, and had even shot him a small smile when he brought her chocolate pudding from the kitchen as a peace offering.

Unlike Marco.

Ace wished he was being paranoid, but that was too easy of an explanation for the latest fear plaguing his mind. Marco was avoiding him, much like Haruta had after the Pitch incident. It was like he had traded one brother ignoring him for another, closer brother ignoring him, and as much as the fire-user liked the Twelfth Division Commander's company, Haruta was not the person he wanted to see the most.

Ace knew where Marco was. He was in his room, a place he had barely left for the past five days. If the Summer Spirit wanted to, he could find the Phoenix there and talk to him… and perhaps beg for forgiveness. Naturally, his fear and sadness kept him from taking a single step towards the blond pirate he looked up to so greatly. If Marco rejected his apology like Haruta had… Ace was not sure if he could— He did not think he'd be able to live with—

He would not take it well.

Ace tried to convince himself that Marco could not stay mad at him forever, that the Phoenix would come around eventually and accept the fire-user again. Yet as each day passed without anything happening, Ace found it harder and harder to keep his emotions under wraps and prevent them from spilling out and alerting his brothers to his distress.

He had kept his grief from Sabo and Luffy, but Jack saw through his mask of happiness and calm. The Winter Spirit had been ready to march to Marco's room and drag him out by his hair but Ace had stopped him, asking him to give the Phoenix time. He brought up Haruta as an example, and it had swayed Jack enough to allow him to leave Marco be for now. Ace somehow managed to persuade the Guardian and himself that they should wait for the First Division Commander to deal with his thoughts and emotions and allow the man to approach him.

_Oh yeah. Make_ _**him** _ _come apologize when he didn't do anything wrong. I'm such a selfish brat._

The ever-present doubts weighed on Ace's, and for once he let his misery show, eyes clouding and a sorrowful look overcoming him. He was by himself, after all, and revealing his pain while alone could not hurt anyone.

Ace still was not sure how he convinced Jack and the others to leave him alone long enough for him to sneak around and down to the brig. He had used the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom to get away, and although much of the present company had known that he was a Spirit— Ace nearly had a heart attack when Luffy told him he'd keep his secret— they may have sensed he needed time away from them all, including Jack, or he'd have a breakdown as his stress and insecurities crushed him.

Or maybe they thought Ace was actually leaving to seek out Marco. Luffy  _had_  been asking about where 'Pineapple' was right before the fire-user bid a hasty retreat, so perhaps they had assumed that was why Ace wanted to be alone. The Summer Spirit could not bring himself to feel guilty about his possible, unintentional deception. It would all work out in the end.

Regardless, Ace did need time. He needed isolation. But not to give himself an opportunity to calm down. During the day, when Luffy and Sabo were around to distract Jack, was the best opportunity he had for some time to be unaccompanied by others. They likely thought he was talking to Marco. No one would search for him. The brig was empty. No one would come down here. It was perfect.

He could test his idea now.

He could see if it was possible to remove the sand on his own.

Ace had everything he might need with him, having brainstormed for his plan repeatedly over the past five days. He had guiltily stolen bandages and some alcohol from the med bay and a couple buckets from the storage room to catch the blood. He did not want to make too much of a mess and risk someone touching the sand. He even had a pile of metal objects like pans and paint cans set nearby that he could knock over if he thought he was in trouble. One shove and it would come crashing down, alerting others to his location if the need arose.

The Summer Spirit planned to start with his wrists. They were the only marks that were hidden from view because of his bandages. Ace decided he would begin with his removal there, so he could expose them when he wished. When people saw what he had done, they would see the sand was gone. That way they would let him continue. As a bonus, Bay had just changed his bandages. She would not check them again for a couple days, giving him some time to heal.

The fire-user had even written an explanation of what he was doing in his newest notebook, hiding the message among the pages. That way if someone stumbled upon him, he could explain so they would not worry. Ace did not want a repeat of the incident with rumors that he was suicidal running around again. They had just recently died down before his brothers' arrival, to his relief. It would be awful if Luffy or Sabo heard and believed them.

Ace sat on the bench that also served as a bed in the brig, setting the items he had collected around him carefully. His hands were steady, and although his heartbeat was a little quick, he was not afraid. He knew it would hurt but he had dealt with much worse pain before. The blood would not freak him out either, particularly since  _he_  would be the one making the incisions. He was going to be the one in control, and would only take out a little at a time, so he could not foresee any problems occurring, unlike with the operation.

The fire-user rubbed at his eyes, shoving away his exhaustion. He had been awake over a week, maybe two, but was still comparatively alert. He would not fall asleep and accidentally slash himself, anyway.

Ace was undeniably a little nervous, but he had to do this. It was the only way to extract the rest of the sand. If he did that, he would be able to sleep again, and more importantly Marco and the others might forgive him. They would see the operation was worth it. Besides, it would not be the first time someone had to operate on themselves. People did that all the time to save their lives in harrowing situations. It would be like removing a bomb or poison that had been placed under his skin.

The Summer Spirit was not exactly in a life-threatening situation like that but he did not have anyone to turn to in order to help. Bay would say no, Chopper was still feeling guilty, Law would make him panic, and Ace could not bear to ask his brothers to do anything that could be considered 'hurting' him. He could do this himself.

_I can be strong. I can fix this._

Ace cut off the bandages gently with the scalpel he stole from Chopper, placing them on the bench beside him. He studied his wrists for a moment, eyes following the thin red line that marked the place where Pitch's extraction had split his skin. It was probably going to scar.

_These might scar too. That's fine. A few blemishes are tolerable if it means I can get the sand out._

He traced his fingers over the healing cut. Bay had finally removed the stitches. Ace briefly wondered if he should follow the line so the doctor would assume that he had reopened the wounds before dismissing the idea.

_I'm not trying to hide it. I'm trying to show that it works. If I slice up my arm there could be too much blood loss at once._

Ace would stick with his original plan then. He would cut small incisions going horizontal across his forearm. That would make the blood more manageable. He was not going for speed, he just needed to remove enough sand to show his idea had merit.

The fire-user nodded to himself and laid his left arm over his knee, situating his wrist over the bucket. He lined up the scalpel over the skin of his inner forearm carefully. It was absurdly sharp, and he did not want to risk harming himself too badly. Ace was glad to note that his hand was steady.

 _I'll have to be careful._  He gulped and breathed deeply, inhaling and exhaling at a measured pace.  _I need to do this._ _For them. I can do—_

A hand grabbed his arm, grip strong enough that when Ace flinched the scalpel did not meet his skin. The hand immediately yanked the surgical tool up and away from his flesh in a way that would not nick it. Ace followed the gray hand up to a black-sleeved arm, eventually meeting silver-gold eyes. He sighed and closed his own eyes briefly.

_I fell asleep. Dammit._

"What… are you  _doing_?" Pitch Black hissed, giving his arm a shake.

Ace yanked the limb from his grasp and stuffed the scalpel back in his pocket. He was more weary than scared. This was a nightmare, so removing the sand now would be pointless. He hoped someone would find his sleeping body in the brig. And hopefully they would not question what was with him.

He tried to speak, only for nothing to come out. The Summer Spirit sighed again.

_Oh. I can't talk in my dreams either? That's new._

Ace glanced around, spotting his notebook where he left it in the waking world. He picked it up and flipped to the appropriate page, handing it casually to the Spirit of Fear. He knew the words by heart, having carefully written an explanation in case something like this happened. Not that he expected the Nightmare King to be the one he had to explain to.

" _It's okay. I'm not hurting myself. I'm just removing the sand._   _It's in my blood, so if I get that out, the sand will come with it. There isn't much left so I'm sure I can extract it."_

The writing went on for a bit, explaining his plan in detail, but that was the important part. The reader just needed to understand Ace was not doing this to harm himself. He was doing it to fix things and get better. Surely they would agree with his methods.

It must be the lighting, but the fire-user swore Pitch was looking paler than usual. The Nightmare King had the courtesy to read his words instead of laughing in his face and murdering him, so Ace guessed the Spirit was in a good mood. Or he was just not in the mood to repeatedly stab the Summer Spirit at the current time.

Pitch looked back at him, traces of disbelief etched on his expression. "You're attempting to remove my sand. And you're going to do that by  _mutilating_  your own flesh?"

In hindsight, it might not have been smart to share his plan with the person who put the poison in Ace's veins in the first place, but it was too late to take the words back. The Summer Spirit nodded, ready to let his mind drift away at the first sign that Pitch was going to attack him. The Nightmare King just stared at him.

"You… are such a  _warped_  creature." The Spirit of Fear murmured.

Was it just Ace's wild imagination, or did he sound horrified more than pleased? Or maybe he just sounded disgusted with the Summer Spirit. The latter made more sense.

He blinked and Pitch appeared directly in front of him, barely a couple inches between them. Ace flinched violently, shrinking backwards on instinct. He was honestly surprised he was not chained to the wall by the manacles that were conveniently there yet. The Nightmare King grabbed the fire-user's arm and he twitched again, squeezing his eyes shut.

_It's not real. It'll end eventually. It's not real._

Ace waited for pain, and blood, and laughter, but none came. Instead something soft was wrapped around his wrist. He cautiously opened his eyes, and observed in silent Pitch neatly wrapped the bandages around his wrists, tying them off expertly. Each movement was careful and precise, much like a doctor's or parent's, and the Summer Spirit barely winced. After an initial scan, the fire-user could not tell the difference between the Nightmare King's placement and Bay's. Not that it mattered. This was just a dream, after all. Even after he was finished, Pitch refrained from attacking him, standing up smoothly and towering over him.

"You don't even realize what you intended to do." He intoned, voice oddly flat. "I should leave you to it. Your family would be more horrified by  _this_  than anything I can do."

A trickle of unease settled in Ace's stomach but he dismissed it. Pitch was just being manipulative again and trying to scare the fire-user into not going through with his plan. Did that mean the Nightmare King feared it would work?

_I'll try later. Once I'm actually awake._

Pitch was watching Ace, almost like he could see his thoughts. That made the fire-user feel oddly ashamed but he brushed the feeling aside. He sure as hell was not about to let the Nightmare King influence him.

The Spirit of Fear hummed lightly, shrugging. "Perhaps later. For now, you and I have something important to do."

Fearlings and Nightmares emerged from the shadows by the hundreds, filling the brig with dark shadows and glowing eyes. Ace swallowed roughly, considering taking the scalpel back out so he had a weapon. He usually had his fire, but this was a nightmare, and he doubted Pitch would let him use his powers.

_No. I shouldn't try to fight. That only makes it last longer._

Ace stayed still as the creatures prowled and floated towards him, considering closing his eyes and blocking out the sight. He eventually decided it would be less harrowing to see when they were going to attack him, so he stared apathetically into the swarm of black, watching them converge around him.

 _It won't last forever. I'll wake up someday,_  he consoled himself.  _I'll survive, like I always have._

Pitch snapped his fingers, making Ace jump, but the click was apparently not a command to attack. Instead the Nightmare King smirked at the Summer Spirit, stepping into his personal space and leaving him trembling. Ace did not try to retreat. There was nowhere to go.

 _It's going to be okay. It isn't real_ , he chanted.  _It's going to be okay. It isn't real._

"Oh, and I might as well mention…" Pitch leaned forward to whisper in his ear. " _This is real._ "

For a single second, Ace felt denial. The way the Nightmare King said it was too casual. The circumstances around them were too unreal to take place in the waking world. It would be just like Pitch to say this was real when it was actually a nightmare, just to scare him again. Pitch was a liar and he lied like liars did… except when the truth hurt more.

Not to mention that the Nightmare King always let him have his voice in dreams in order to hear him scream.

Ice shot through the Summer Spirit's veins and he stumbled back, pressing himself against the wall. They were on the Moby Dick. Pitch and his minions were  _on the Moby Dick_. Ace tried to scream, to shout a warning, but no sound escaped him. He inched along the wall, heart pounding loudly in his chest, as the Fearlings and their master approached, shark-like grins on their faces. The Nightmares' nostrils flared like they could smell the fire-user's fear and they shrieked and hissed lowly in anticipation.

"Did you really think you were safe here, Ace?" Pitch crooned. "Did you really think they could  _protect_  you? Foolish boy. They cannot even protect themselves. But back to my idea…"

He shot forward like he'd teleported and grabbed Ace by the hair, smirking as his victim's face distorted with pain. The Nightmare King pulled him up off the ground until they were nearly nose-to-nose, the Summer Spirit's feet lifted from the floor, and basked in the fear in the fire-user's eyes.

"How about… we go and watch them all die?" Pitch whispered.

Above them, barely muffled by the wood that blocked them from sight, someone  _shrieked_ , a horrific sound that cut off abruptly, hinting the source had been slain. The sound was soon followed by thundering feet and panicked shouts, the sounds of a battle reaching the brig far below.

Ace's ability to form coherent thoughts abandoned him and he thrashed in Pitch's hold, desperate to escape. He did not try for himself, but the people up above, the people that were fighting, the ones who were  _dying because of him again_. The Nightmare King's grip did not loosen and he watched the fire-user struggle uselessly, unable to break free. More screams reached his ears and the Summer Spirit slowly stopped fighting, a hollow feeling opening up in his gut.

 _It's a trick_ , he tried to tell himself.  _It isn't real. I don't hear my friends dying. It's… It's not…_

There was a crash, much closer than the rest, and Ace looked out the door in time to see a pirate stumble towards the brig. The man— what was his name? Ace could not remember his name— spotted the Fearlings, Pitch, and his hostage and froze, eyes going wide. He took a step forward.

"Ac—!"

The Fearlings converged on him. The pirate did not stand a chance, falling to the horde in an instant as he screamed in anguish and horror. Ace could not make himself close his eyes as he watched the pirate get ripped apart, dying in a brutal flash of darkness and blood. The man's eyes were still open, staring directly at the fire-user even though he could no longer see him.

The man was dead. Dead dead dead. Dead for real.

All because of him.

Ace's mind went foggy. He stared blankly as the Fearlings dragged the body deeper into the darkness, eyes round with shock… and then he giggled. The attempt to laugh was not made out of mirth or joy, instead carrying a strained heaviness to it that had nothing to do with his useless vocal cords.

Something important inside him crumbled and the fire-user began to laugh hysterically without noise, unaware of Pitch's arms around him and the fact that he was being dragged away. A broken smile forced its way onto Ace's face, and tears started to accompany his ragged chuckles. He did not attempt to struggle as Pitch pulled him into the darkness, instead beginning to silently laugh and cry all at once, caught between cackling madly and sobbing pitifully. He would hate himself for his breakdown later. If there was a later.

So the Summer Spirit laughed and cried.

And laughed.

And cried.

If he could, Ace would have screamed.


	32. When He Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dark chapter.

To say they were caught off guard would be an understatement. The Whitebeard Pirates were always vigilant. They were always ready to fight on a moment's notice. As a Yonko's crew in the New World, they could not expect to do anything less. But they never had trouble come from within their own ship. They never had enemies emerge from inside their  _home_.

Marco was still in his room when it happened. Thatch had not returned since storming out two days ago, and the Phoenix's interaction with the outside world was limited to the cook the chef sent in his stead. Marco knew it would not be much longer before he was ordered to go out and get some sun— or at least stop isolating himself from his brothers— but saw nothing wrong with catching up on the duties he could while here.

It was only through luck that the Phoenix was reaching for a new paper and spotted the Fearling emerging from the shadows, creeping towards him. In an instant his legs had transformed into blue fire, and he took off its head with a single strike. A scream sounded from somewhere else on the ship, followed by another, and the reports were left forgotten on the floor as the Phoenix raced out the door. He met Izo in the hallway, racing at the Sixteenth Division Commander's side as they headed towards the commotion that was steadily growing louder.

"What's going on, yoi?" he asked sharply. "Are we under attack?"

"You know as much as me." Izo growled, pulling out his guns.

They emerged from the lower decks, side by side, and found themselves in a sea of chaos. The sky was pitch black, not an inch of blue or grey in sight. Marco may have assumed it was nighttime if not for the way the darkness writhed, thousands of yellow eyes appearing amidst the blackness like demonic stars.

Black creatures swarmed the deck, screeching and shrieking like demons as they attacked the Moby Dick and Thousand Sunny. Their unnatural cries were accompanied by the screams and shouts of the pirates, guns firing and swords slashing as they attempted to defend their home. Marco barely took time to note that Whitebeard was up and fighting before he took to the air, flying towards the nearest group of monsters— Nightmares and Fearlings.

_So Pitch finally decided to attack us. Dammit. We should have seen this coming!_

His flaming talons tore through five Nightmares like they were made of wet paper, the sand that made up their form crumbling away and falling into the sea. Marco mentally made a note to not destroy any of them where the hostile sand could drop onto one of his brothers and shot towards a swarm of Fearlings, completely in his Phoenix form.

He instinctively dodged a Fearling's slash, decapitating it with a strike of his own, then sank his sharp talons into another of the creatures, throwing it into the ocean. Marco heard the loud cracking sound of his father's power and watched in satisfaction as a large portion of the flying monsters were wiped out by the splitting air. A large blast of ice and fire took out another section of the horde and the Phoenix spotted Jack's white hair and Sabo's top hat among the fighters below.

There was a noticeable absence of orange with them.

Marco swooped downward, kicking the Fearling sneaking up on Thatch away and watching it fade into shadows. The chef grinned at him, though his eyes were dark. The Phoenix had a feeling the anger burning in his cold orbs was not directed at him. The blond-haired pirate demolished another Nightmare, transforming into a human as he landed on the Moby Dick's deck.

"Where's Ace?" Marco demanded.

The Winter Spirit, chef, and Revolutionary turned near-identical shades of white.

"He isn't with you?" Sabo asked shakily. "We thought he went to your room! Ace really needed some time alone but we were talking about you so we thought—"

Someone screamed. Marco spun in midair to see the source. It was a man from the Second Division— Ace's old division. For the life of him, the Phoenix could not remember his name. The pirate gave another piercing shriek, filled with agony and fear, and all eyes instinctively went to the man, watching him cry out. It was then that Marco spotted the wound on his hand, a small, bloody breakage in the skin that oozed red… and black.

" _The sand is an instant-kill for anyone other than me and Jack_.  _If it gets into your bloodstream it will turn you into a Fearling instantly. There is no cure. You cannot stop it. It may be possible to prevent a transformation if you can remove the infected body part but only if you are quick enough."_

Ace's warning tore its way through Marco's consciousness, as loud and terrifying as a gunshot on a once-peaceful night. The Phoenix ran towards the pirate— Sam. His name was Sam.— arms outstretched, as if he could stop it, as if there was something he could  _do_.

Before the pirates', Revolutionaries', and Spirits' frightened eyes, Sam of the Second Division transformed. Darkness crept over his skin, creeping out from the bloody gashes on his palm and turning his flesh from a warm tan to an inky black. The pirate screamed like he was being tortured, writhing and clawing at his own body like a man possessed. His eyes flashed from blue to a horrific, unnatural yellowish-gold, and the darkness expanded from him like smoke, surrounding him and hiding him from sight. When the blackness reformed, Sam was gone. In his place stood a Fearling, which gave a demonic shriek.

The entire transformation took less than a second. Marco never would have made it in time. That did not stop him from crying out in grief and shock— his gasp echoed by many around him— unable to comprehend what they had just seen.

The Fearling turned on the closest pirates, sharp claws flicking out to slash one man's throat. The pirate went down with a gurgle, dead before he could suffer the same fate as his comrade. Marco lunged for the mutated pirate, grabbing 'his' hands and keeping him from attacking more of 'his' petrified crewmates. The Fearling— Sam— shrieked and snarled, thrashing in his hold and snapping at his face with sharp teeth.

The Phoenix finally got his voice to work. "Sam! Get ahold of yourself, yoi!"

The Fearling did not even falter at the sound of his voice, jerking its head forward. Marco barely had time to realize it was going for his throat with its fangs before he felt the slightest prick of its teeth on his skin.

The monster exploded into shadow, beheaded by a well-placed sword-slice. The Phoenix stumbled back a step, hand to his neck and eyes wide. He turned to his savior, staring at him, mind unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Vista was pale as he readied his sword again. "Are you okay?"

"You j-just… Sam…" Marco mumbled, mind still fuzzy.

He noted the wet streaks on the swordsman's cheeks. "It wasn't him anymore." Vista choked.

Marco heard laughter.

It was startling and surreal, out of place among the horrified atmosphere that had taken over the ships. The Nightmares and Fearlings backed away from the pirates and their allies, taking to the air and sneering down at their enemy from above.

Pitch appeared atop the cabin above them, laughing at their misery… with a pale-skinned and unmoving Ace in his arms. The fire-user did not look afraid. He looked  _broken_. His once flame-colored eyes were the dark hue of dying embers, and he hung almost lifelessly in the Nightmare King's grasp, only the Spirit's arm around his waist keeping him upright. If not for the slight movement of his chest, Marco may have believed his little brother was dead.

The Phoenix's entire body tensed, coiling as he prepared to spring towards the monster that had Ace, but a black sword placed at the fire-user's neck was enough to make not only him, but everyone else, freeze.

"There we go." Pitch said, voice tinged with that twisted amusement. "If I knew you'd be so easy to control with a hostage, I would have grabbed Ace sooner. Thank you all for leaving him alone, by the way."

The sincerity in his tone made Marco's skin crawl.

" _Ace!_ " Luffy gasped, stepping forward.

He halted like he'd hit a steel wall when Pitch pressed the sword threateningly against the fire-user's throat. Marco saw a bead of blood trickle down Ace's neck and watched as he grit his teeth, trying not to move. Fury and fear fought for control within the Phoenix, and he settled for glowering at the Nightmare King with utter loathing. He heard a low growling sound and was unsurprised to see it came from Whitebeard. The Yonko's eyes were dark with rage and he pointed his bisento at the Nightmare King.

"Let. My son.  _Go_." Whitebeard snarled.

Pitch smirked, not cowed by his threatening tone. "I don't think I will. After all, if you try to hit me, you risk harming  _him_  too."

No one tried to refute his claim. They did not dare move either. Pitch's eyes glinted triumphantly and he lifted a hand to stroke Ace's cheek. The fire-user shuddered but gave no other reaction, staring straight ahead with unblinking eyes. A flicker of color caught Marco's attention and he mentally cursed. He could see the blue sphere that was Law's Room. Pitch had Ace just outside the surgeon's range. Knowing the Nightmare King, he had done that on purpose.

Cruel yellowish eyes fixed on someone amongst the crowd and Pitch clicked his tongue. "Don't even think about moving, Jack Frost. Didn't you learn anything from last time?"

Marco noted Jack was now further ahead of him, hair covered with frost and frame icy with barely-suppressed rage. The Phoenix could hear ice crackling as it covered the area around the Winter Spirit's feet, splintering a couple wooden boards.

"You're a bloody  _coward_ , Pitch." The Guardian hissed.

"Perhaps. Or maybe I'm just a pragmatist. I  _was_  going to play fair when I first showed up— truly I was— but I saw an opportunity and took it." The Nightmare King said lightly, much like a man discussing what he had for breakfast.

"What do you want, Black?" Whitebeard demanded, unwilling to play Pitch's games. "Why are you here?"

The Nightmare King tilted his head mockingly. "To say hello. Or test myself. Or maybe I was ordered to come. It's a secret." His eyelids drooped and he looked at Ace, who was still staring above the crowd with that horrible, empty gaze. "Speaking of secrets… I think Ace has a couple he'd like to share with you. And if a  _single person_  interrupts me…"

The knife flicked down Ace's collarbone. The injury seemed to force the fire-user back into his body for his eyes went wide and his breathing quickened. His gaze flicked over his horrified viewers and his skin turned an even paler white.

Marco's heart skipped a beat.  _Oh no._

"Little Ace has been telling you all a lot of lies." Pitch informed them in a tone that suggested the fire-user was a misbehaving child. "Or maybe he just failed to tell the truth. He wasn't captured by me for all these years. I only had him for a couple months. Ace simply decided that you all weren't worth his time after he was brought back and has spent the  _past three years_  roaming the world and willingly  _avoiding you all_."

Marco could practically  _see_  the confusion, hurt, and doubt washing over the gathered pirates.

"He could have showed himself to you at any time, but instead chose to abandon you. He moved on with his life and let you mourn, leaving the crew he claimed to have loved and letting you wallow in misery and guilt instead of revealing himself." Gold-tinged eyes shot to Jack and Pitch bared his teeth. "Go on. Tell them that isn't true. Tell them that Ace had  _no_  chance to seek them out. Tell them he  _didn't_  choose to avoid them."

The Guardian struggled for a moment, shaking with fury. "That's not why—"

His mouth clicked shut when Pitch's knife carved a line on Ace's throat, just enough to draw blood. The fire-user quivered, gaze locked on the sky above everyone's heads once more. It was almost like he was trying to pretend they were not there.

"Oh wait, that's  _right_." Pitch gasped like something important had slipped his mind. "I forgot the biggest reason why he refused to return. He was so afraid of what you'd think of him… because this little  _freak_ —" He gave Ace a harsh shake. "—isn't human anymore. He was brought back from the dead as a Spirit. Just… like…  _ **me**_." He smiled unnaturally, the grin too large for his face.

No one spoke. No one dared to. Ace's trembling grew more pronounced. Pure terror flashed across his expression before his face returned to a forced neutral look. Marco saw movement from the corner of his eye. He made sure not to look at the figure creeping towards the Nightmare King from behind.

"Let me guess." Pitch cooed. "You thought Ace somehow survived his injuries. You thought he miraculously lived through the ordeal. He didn't. He  _died_. He was then resurrected as a  _monster_. And he knew it too." His eyes went to Marco, who stiffened. "Did you think he murdered those men for your protection?" He looked at Haruta, who glared. "Did you think he attacked you on accident?" His gaze flicked to Garp. "Did you know he fought you with the intent to  _kill_?"

"Stop telling lies about Ace!" Luffy exploded.

His rage was snuffed out like a candle when Pitch dragged his blade up Ace's arm. The fire-user barely seemed to notice, sinking back into mindless oblivion when no one else rose to his defense. It was due to Pitch's 'request' but Marco had a sinking feeling Ace did not know that. Even thinking about what must be going through the kid's head right then made the Phoenix feel sick to his stomach.

Pitch did not allow Ace to sink into apathy, giving him another rough shake. "Go on, Ace. Shake your head if I'm lying."

Ace did not move, pupils dilated and a vaguely confused look on his face. Marco had no doubt that the kid did not recall where he was or what was happening, likely thinking he was in a nightmare. After a heartbeat the fire-user closed his eyes, tears trickling down his cheeks. Marco sensed the atmosphere shift further, a terrible tension falling over them all.

Pitch laughed, looking at them all eagerly. " _There_  it is. I can sense your doubt. I can sense your  _fear_. So much confusion and hurt, all because of one person."

_That's what he's doing_ , Marco realized.  _He's trying to make us afraid, and damage our trust in Ace. Hardly anyone knows about Ace and Pitch and everything, so Pitch is just 'filling in' the empty gaps to cause discord and distress…_

"You don't  _know_." Pitch continued with a laugh. "You don't know if I'm telling the truth. And that  _scares_  you. It terrifies you… almost as much as  _this_."

He grabbed Ace by his hair, exposing his throat fully and putting the sword to his jugular. The kid did not appear to notice, eyes clouded and unfocused. Marco could practically feel the fear that swept through a majority of those present. A bitter helplessness gripped him and he found himself unable to move. They could not do anything. If they tried to get Ace away, Pitch would kill him. If they did nothing, Pitch would kill him. The Nightmare King really was a manipulative coward.

_Or a pragmatist,_  Marco acknowledged bitterly.  _What better way to neutralize a powerful foe than to take one of their loved one's hostage? Dammit!_

"Well?" Pitch mocked. "Aren't you going to do something?" His gaze returned to Garp and his grin grew feral. "Or are you going to let your grandson die  _again_?"

Garp the Fist flinched like he had been struck.

Ace vanished from Pitch's arms.

For a moment, everyone— including Pitch— stared at the empty space the fire-user once occupied in shock. Then the Nightmare King gave an enraged shriek and threw a barrage of sand at Law— Law, who was just a few steps closer than he had been, who had  _Ace in his arms_. Marco felt his fear trickle away, replaced by relief.

_Oh thank Oda._

Jack dropped between Law and the tsunami, a wall of ice blocking the wave as Sanji sprang for the Nightmare King from behind. Pitch spun, arm slamming into the cook's gut and sending him flying. Before he could pursue Sanji and finish him, Jack shot bolts of ice at the Nightmare King, giving a shout.

"Don't just stand there!  _Fight!_ "

The defenders jolted into action, and their enemies followed suit, the Nightmares and Fearlings swarming them once more. Marco tore his way through the monsters, heading for the Nightmare King, only to change directions when he saw Whitebeard storming towards the Spirit of Fear. The air cracked behind Pitch and he stumbled slightly, righting himself with a sneer.

"You'll have to do better than that." He hissed, and lunged for the Yonko.

Trusting his father to take care of himself, Marco took to the air and landed in front of Law and Ace, kicking a Nightmare away from the surgeon. The Heart Pirate gave him a stiff nod of thanks, and the Phoenix seamlessly joined the group that surrounded Law and the fire-user. It was like the whole gang was there. Jack, Luffy, Sabo, Koala, Thatch, Izo, Haruta, Baby Tooth. They stood in an unbreakable circle around their brother and friend, guarding him from the ones that sought to hurt him.

Jack and Sabo proved to be two of the most destructive fighters, taking out huge numbers of enemies with large, fury-driven attacks. Luffy and Law were not far behind, striking down Nightmares and Fearlings determinedly, careful not to douse anyone in the cruel black sand. Their defense was nearly impenetrable— perhaps because of the one they protected— and Marco felt an odd sense of unity with them all, even the people he had been furious with just that morning.

Others were not so lucky. Although the mood was no longer as grim, the situation was still dire. Frantic screams and terrified shouts ripped through the air, but Marco had not time to stop and grieve as more and more of the less-powerful pirates were struck and transformed by the monsters. He did not let himself think about it. He could not think about everyone they were losing. If he did, he would despair, and fear gave Pitch power.

Ace did not react to any of it, sitting on the deck and staring straight ahead like he was in a trance. He did not even blink as a Fearling got through their circle, claws dissipating just an inch from the fire-user's face when Koala killed it. Marco refused to acknowledge that the kid was gone, lost so deep in his mind he might never come back. Ace was just out of it for the moment. Nothing more.

They needed a safe place for him, but there was no such haven. Pirates were fleeing from the lower decks, pursued by Nightmares. The Sunny was also swamped, with multiple Whitebeard Pirates jumping to the smaller ship to assist the remaining Straw Hats in her defense.

A Fearling dove for Law, claws outstretched, and Marco leapt at it, slamming into it talons-first. Something clicked around his ankle and he plummeted, flames snuffed out. He hit the deck, barely missing the catatonic Ace, and rolled to his feet, glancing at his ankle. Marco stared at the Seastone cuff in bewilderment before jumping backwards, barely dodging the Fearling's next strike.

It was all so familiar. The frantic battle. Luffy's presence. Marco getting cuffed with Seastone. Trying to save Ace…

_Marineford_ , Marco thought numbly.  _He's copying parts of Marineford._  For a second, the Phoenix considered if it was intentional. Seeing who they were dealing with, it had to be.  _Bastard._

He swore the Fearling was smirking at him. The monster lunged for Law again but the surgeon sliced it in half. A shadow rose behind him, inside the protective circle, and Marco struck Pitch in the head as he emerged. The Nightmare King barely twitched. He grabbed the Phoenix's foot and threw him into Law.

The Commander heard the Heart Pirate give a pained grunt as they struck Sabo as well and collapsed into a heap. Marco looked up in time to see Pitch grab Ace, lifting up the limp fire-user by his throat.

_No—!_

Law lifted a crate off the deck with his power, throwing it at the Nightmare King. Sabo set it on fire as it went and the flaming wood struck Pitch directly on the nose. The Spirit of Fear released Ace on instinct and the fire-user fell like a discarded puppet, as if he were unconscious. Luffy grabbed his brother with stretched arms and pulled him towards him, backing away with Ace in his grasp.

Pitch huffed, looking mildly irritated. His unblinking eyes locked on Law. "You are quite the thorn in my side, teleporter."

The surgeon glared back. If he was disturbed by the Nightmare King's anger, he did not show it. On his hat, Baby Tooth narrowed her eyes at the Nightmare King. Pitch grinned and swung at Law, sword transforming into a nasty-looking scythe. The Heart Pirate vanished and the weapon sliced through the chunk of wood he used to replace him. Marco made to attack but Izo grabbed his arm.

"Don't. Let me get this off before you hurt yourself." He said rapidly, gesturing at the manacle.

Marco was about to protest when Garp appeared out of nowhere, fist slamming into Pitch's gut. The Nightmare King went flying, a wonderfully startled look on his face. The Phoenix watched the Marine pursue the Spirit of Fear, whose smirk shifted into a scowl as the enraged grandfather forced him away from Ace again. The circle was back in formation, with Luffy hovering near his unresponsive brother.

"Okay.  _Hurry_ , yoi." The Phoenix said.

The okama began to pick the lock, with Thatch watching their backs and killing any monsters that came near. The Straw Hat swordsman had joined them for the moment, killing Fearlings with large, far-reaching strikes. Marco took the time he had to search for Whitebeard, relieved to see him easily demolishing the Nightmares and Fearlings that floated in the air.

It seemed that Pitch had fled from the Yonko, and the Phoenix felt vindictively pleased at the thought. Thatch's startled yelp made his gaze snap back to his surroundings, and he saw his brother stumble away from a Fearling… that looked like a swamp?

_What in Oda's name…?_

The Fearling shifted between black and a muddy grey, hand shooting out and extending like viscous, dirty water. Before Marco's horrified eyes, its appendage wrapped around Thatch's mouth, smothering him. The chef's eyes bugged out and he dropped his sword, struggling frantically.

Marco heard a click and tore away from Izo, returning to his hybrid form and tearing into the monster with Haki-imbued talons. The Swamp Fearling shrieked in agony as it was torn apart, and Marco refused to let up, slashing savagely at the monster.

It took more hits than he liked, but eventually it faded to black before vanishing into smoke, releasing Thatch. The chef fell to his knees, heaving slightly and taking in desperate gulps of air. Marco ran to his side, batting away another— this time normal— Fearling.

"I'm f-fine." Thatch wheezed, brushing off his concern. "W-What was  _that_?"

Marco suspected he knew, but did not voice his worrying theory. Instead he hoisted Thatch back to his feet. "Later. Let's get to Ace."

The chef nodded, barely twitching as Izo's bullet whizzed past his head and killed another Nightmare. The three Commanders ran towards the group protecting their little brother, which had been forced towards the edge of the ship. Marco did not see Pitch, something that worried him as much as it relieved him. Ace was still on the deck, blissfully oblivious to the battle raging around him. Again, Marco refused to panic or think about what was wrong with the kid, returning to the fray.

They could not let Pitch get Ace. They could not let the Nightmare King win. Marco did not know Pitch's exact motivation for attacking the Moby Dick, but it seemed Ace was at the center of it, so defending him was of utmost priority. Not only that, but Pitch had attacked their family, their home. He had tried to make them afraid, to turn them against their youngest brother. He had believed this would be an easy victory, but Marco was determined to prove the Spirit of Fear wrong.

No one got away with hurting a Whitebeard Pirate.  _No one_.

Not even Fear itself.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Everything was grey. Ace floated in a fog, unseeing, unfeeling, unable to hear or think. It was not relaxing but it did give him a sense of peace. He tried to think about why he longed for such tranquility and sank deeper into oblivion as his mind rejected the subject. It was strange, being so unaware but aware. The fire-user could not complain, though.

Nothing could touch him here. Not people, not memories, not even his own mind.

Ace saw nothing.

He heard nothing.

He felt nothing.

It was wonderful.

Time may have passed, or perhaps no time passed at all, but Ace did not care. The fog was grey, and empty, and safe, and he had no desire to break free of it any time soon. Faint flashes of… something tried to invade his blank world but he blocked it, continuing to float. The snippets of… sound? tried again, and again to pull him out of his head but he stayed where he was, sinking deeper into mindlessness.

There it was again. A blip of noise. It was louder this time. Ace tried to identify it but his mind did not let him, pushing him away from the things that could cause him harm. But why would noise hurt him? Sure, they could be loud, but they could not cause lasting damage. Except if someone was talking, perhaps. Words could not physically hurt but they could still be painful.

Pitch was an expert at that kind of thing. Making words hurt. Picking apart his mind. Finding his secrets and fears and revealing them to the world—

_Everyone knows._

Ace was brutally yanked from his fragile state of oblivion, thrown back into the real world against his will. He scrambled for a moment, trying to resist the pull, but his mind refused to return to the blissful void, callously dropping him back into reality. His vision returned first, momentarily blurred by unshed tears, and he took in his surroundings in horrified confusion.

A battle. He was in the middle of a battle. He could see his brothers and friends around him, fighting off endless swarms of Nightmares and Fearlings. Ace watched them in bewilderment, unable to fully believe what he was seeing as the lingering remnants of his catatonia kept him falsely 'calm'. A piercing shriek rose above the sounds of the fight and his eyes were dragged to a Whitebeard Pirate in time to see the poor man get slashed by a Fearling. The pirate seemed to meet the Summer Spirit's eyes over the battle, expression wild with pure terror, and then he was gone, transformed into a monster faster than Ace could blink.

Ace's false peace abandoned him and he began to hyperventilate, his memories of recent events forcing themselves into his waking mind. Pitch had captured him. The Nightmare King had revealed he was a Spirit and had been avoiding his loved ones for three years. People were dying because Pitch was after Ace, because Ace had led the Spirit of Fear here.

It had to be a nightmare. Ace was not sure he could live with himself if it wasn't. But it was not a dream. It was real real  _real_. The Summer Spirit curled in on himself, hands grasping his head as he rocked back and forth. He must have moved too noticeably, for Sabo knelt in front of him and Ace flinched, shrinking away from the Revolutionary. Something flickered through the Logia's expression before it settled into a grim look.

"You're awake! Finally."

" _ **About time."**_  Ace heard.

"Listen, we're fighting Pitch."

" _ **Which you'd know if you weren't so pathetic."**_  The Revolutionary had to be thinking.

"You need to defend yourself, okay? We're here for you, but you need to fight."

" _ **Stop being a weakling before you get us all killed!"**_  his brother must be holding back.

Sabo did not say any of those words, but he had to be thinking them. Ace could not hate him for it. He deserved to be looked at with disgust. The Summer Spirit stumbled to his feet, arms limp at his sides. Sabo shot him a strained smile Ace could not return and incinerated a dozen Fearlings at once. The black-haired fire-user could not find the will to help.

_This is my fault. Pitch is attacking because of me. They're forced to fight and die because of_ _**me** _ _._

He saw Pitch battling Whitebeard and Garp at once, a vicious grin on his face. It was obvious that the Yonko and Marine were getting hits in, but none seemed to even slow the Nightmare King down. Ace could see the Spirit of Fear smirking, his grin never leaving his face even as Whitebeard hit him point blank. The strike only made Pitch fly back a few feet, a blow which he quickly recovered from.

_They can't kill him. No one can._

Ace looked up and distantly observed as a Fearling dove for him, claws outstretched. Thatch sliced it in half before it could reach the fire-user. The Summer Spirit could not bring himself to feel grateful.

_Why are they bothering to fight? They can't win._

The chef turned to Ace with a brilliant grin. "You're okay!"

He sounded so happy. Ace did not understand. Thatch should be angry at him. They all should be. This was his fault.

_Pitch wouldn't care about them if I wasn't here. He came for me._

Again Ace's eyes found the Nightmare King. His body began to shake as he watched Haruta attempt to strike the Spirit, only to be batted away like a pesky fly. The Twelfth Division Commander hit the deck hard, sliding a few feet before going still. He did not rise. The fire-user felt too numb to be horrified. Whitebeard's enraged shout almost made him feel something, but he merely continued to observe like a person watching a play as the Yonko stabbed Pitch. The Nightmare King vanished into the shadows and reappeared, laughing in the Captain's face.

Without knowing why, Ace stepped forward, drifting more than walking towards the furious fight like a ghost on the battlefield. The people closest to him did not see him go, trapped in their own duels as more and more monsters appeared from the darkness. The sky was filled with Fearlings and Nightmares, making the Summer Spirit briefly wonder if they had been transported to Hell.

_Hopeless_ , his mind whispered.  _This is hopeless. They're all going to die._

Ace paused in the middle of the deck, unblinking as a Nightmare was shot mere inches in front of him, and turned vaguely to look behind him. Luffy and Jack were back-to-back, mowing down Fearlings and Nightmares, only for them to be instantly replaced by new foes. Sabo was in a similar position with Law, shoulders burning and expression dark with rage as he burned his enemies to a crisp. They were not quite losing yet, but they were not winning either. Eventually, one would make a mistake. Eventually, one would fall. Or, even worse…

Another slash. Another scream. Another lost soul.

_Twitch_ , Ace thought vaguely as he watched the newest Fearling turn on his former brothers.  _His name was Twitch._

A shudder went through the Summer Spirit and he closed his eyes, not caring if a Nightmare killed him on the spot.

_No one else should die for me._   _I'm not worth it._  Ace thought.

Something grabbed him and his eyes snapped open, breath stuttering as his body locked with fear. He only relaxed a tad when he met Whitebeard's angry eyes. The Yonko lifted him and spun in a circle, slicing Nightmares to dust and pinning Pitch with a fierce glare. The Spirit of Fear was a lot closer than he had been. Ace belatedly realized the Nightmare King must have tried to murder him again but Whitebeard saved him. The thought almost made him want to laugh. He could not manage it, instead feeling… disappointed.

"Are you having fun yet, Newgate?" Pitch asked, arms wide and smirk wider. "Have you lost enough children?"

Ace winced as the hand holding him tightened. Whitebeard loosened his grip a little, keeping his eyes on the Nightmare King.

"You are an arrogant coward and fool." The Yonko said coldly.

"Indeed." Pitch agreed. "But I think I have the right to be. You  _aren't_  a threat to me."

He sounded greatly amused by that statement, eyes glinting with a near-fanatical light. Ice spears seemed to materialize in his shoulder and he cursed aloud, stumbling back. Jack appeared beside Whitebeard, eyes narrowed and expression set in a dark scowl. Ace stared blankly at the Guardian, still feeling as if he were watching the events play out in front of him instead of living them.

"Looks like  _I_  am." Jack snarled. "I may not be able to kill you, but I  _can_  hurt you."

Pitch ripped the spears from his body, the tears in his cloak vanishing like they had never existed. "Then I guess we are at an impasse. Or maybe not. I don't need to 'win.'" He casually slashed a pirate that attempted to sneak up on him, killing the man before he could be transformed. "I suppose now should be the time I tell you I just came here for the  _fun_  of it. I got the idea from you."

Jack twitched.

Pitch sneered. "That's right. No big plans. No overreaching motives. I just came on a whim to see how you all reacted, Jack. Though I have to admit, I'm happy I'm receiving more recruits for my army. And there's so much more fear here now." He breathed deeply, like he was taking in the scent of it. "It's  _intoxicating_."

His eyes landed on Ace, who shrank against Whitebeard. He had a feeling he knew where most of that fear was coming from, and felt a rush of shame. Of course he was to blame. He should have known. The Yonko stabbed at the Nightmare King again, but Pitch dodged. He swiftly evaded Jack's ice blast, to the Winter Spirit's disgust.

If Ace were less numb, he might start feeling annoyed with the Nightmare King's careless attitude by now. He merely watched the battle play out, entire body tense, drifting between apathy and worry. He should be fighting and helping but he was not. He was so  _useless_.

"Fine." Jack spat. "So you did your little experiment. How about you leave then?"

Pitch laughed aloud. "Are you joking? Why would I ever do that?" His gaze flicked past the three and his smile vanished. "Would you look at that? What a shame. I guess you should have been watching him."

Ace struggled from Whitebeard's arms and turned, looking in the same direction as Pitch. His heart dropped and before he could fully comprehend what he was seeing, he was running. Even as his apathy lingered, even as his mind faintly claimed this was all a terrible nightmare, he bolted towards Luffy.

Luffy, who was on the ground.

Luffy, who was unmoving.

Luffy, who was  _surrounded by Fearlings creeping in for the kill_.

Next to their little brother, Sabo was surrounded as well. Ace did not know how it happened, but his brother was with his back to a wall, slaying the Fearlings with his pipe instead of his powers. A manacle glinted in the light and Ace recognized that cursed Seastone. But Sabo was fine. He could defend himself.

Luffy could not.

He was not moving.

He was still on the ground.

The Fearlings were coming.

They were going to turn Luffy into one of them. Luffy wanted to be Pirate King. He wanted to be the freest man in the world. He could not be that if he was a minion of Pitch. The Fearlings were going to destroy his dream and make it impossible. They were going to enslave Ace's little brother.

Ace was  _not_  going to let them take Luffy's freedom away.

The Summer Spirit's vision blurred, turning white, and he heard the familiar roar of blazing flames. When his sight cleared, the Fearlings were gone and Luffy was sitting up on the ground with a startled look on his face. Pitch mirrored his look of surprise, but quickly banished it in favor of a harsh sneer.

"So you finally decided to wake up."

Ace blinked, puzzled, and noticed he was in front of Luffy, between his brother and the Nightmare King. He did not remember going there. Last he checked, he was by Jack, right? He saw blasts of ice from the far side of the ship and swallowed, realizing he was no longer near the Winter Spirit. Or Whitebeard. In fact, the only one not caught up in a battle near him was Luffy.

They were on their own.

The thought terrified him.

Ace distantly heard Thatch cursing up a storm and saw him fighting a Fearling that appeared to be made of… snow? His confused thoughts stuttered to a halt as Pitch appeared in front of him, grinning like a predator that just found his next meal.

"How cute. Are you going to fight me?" the Nightmare King purred, smirking.

Ace was ashamed to note he was trembling like a leaf. Pitch stepped towards him and the Summer Spirit stepped back, nearly tripping on his brother. The rubber pirate still looked confused, and Ace finally noticed the trickle of blood dripping down his forehead.

_This is bad. This is very bad. This is bad bad bad._

He did not want to fight. He did not know if he could. But Ace had to. He had to protect Luffy. Even if he was scared. Even if the fight killed him. He  _had_  to.

Ace shakily settled into a firmer stance, guarding his little brother. Luffy made a small, confused noise behind him, and the fire-user did not need to look to picture the dazed bewilderment in his eyes. Pitch looked like he was holding back laughter, eyes lit up with sadistic hilarity as he looked at the Summer Spirit's display.

"Why can't you foolish people understand? You  _can't_  beat  _fear_."

Ace blinked and Pitch was in front of him, sword swinging. The Summer Spirit flinched, unable to move in time, and the blade sliced a shallow line in his arm. As quickly as the fire-user realized that was what the Nightmare King intended to do, Pitch struck again, foot slamming into his stomach.

Ace crashed into his muddled brother, sending them both into the railing. The Summer Spirit heard the wood snap and reached out blindly, grabbing Luffy by his shirt as they plunged into open air. The rubber pirate gasped as they fell off the ship, only for Ace to fly them back to safety. Before he could land, Pitch attacked again. The fire-user dropped his brother so the sword would not hit Luffy, taking the blow intended for his sibling without hesitation. His throat strained as the blade nicked his side, drawing blood, and he heard Luffy shout.

" _Ace!_ "

The rubber pirate rocketed himself into the air, and Pitch turned on him in an instant, kicking him and sending him crashing through the deck below. Ace mentally pleaded that Luffy did not go through too many floors and flew at the Nightmare King's back, flames bursting from his palm. The Spirit of Fear gave a small hiss and spun, striking Ace with the back of his hand instead of his blade. The fire-user acknowledged that Pitch was mocking him even as he plummeted downward.

Ace hit the deck with less force than his brother, missing Koala by an inch. The Revolutionary inhaled sharply when Pitch landed beside the fire-user, sword raised. She froze as she realized she could not hurt the Spirit of Fear, but could not back away without exposing Ace. The Summer Spirit made the decision for her by leaping between the two, taking the strike again. This time he got a cut on his shoulder. He heard a scream and flinched when he recognized Luffy's voice.

" _Stop_   _doing that!_ " the Straw Hat Captain shouted.

Ace had no clue what he was talking about. The rubber pirate ran at the Nightmare King again and Pitch batted him away, untouchable and undefeatable. Despair was regaining its grasp on the fire-user's limbs again and he struggled to stay lucid. Why was Luffy even trying? It was useless.

Ace's thoughts did not stop him from returning to the fight, however, managing to deflect the stab that would have gone through his little brother's gut. His mind pleaded with him to return to oblivion and save his psyche, but he could not abandon Luffy like that. He had to fight for Luffy.

Even though he knew they could not win.

Ace barely noticed when Pitch stabbed him in the wrist—when he had to stop the Nightmare King from hurting Luffy again— though he definitely noticed when the Spirit of Fear ripped the blade from his skin. The fire-user retaliated on instinct, lashing out with burning-hot flames, and Pitch was forced to retreat as his cloak caught on fire. Ace took a moment to breathe, air hissing between his teeth as he took in the damage.

_Bay is going to be really mad,_  he thought.

Pitch rose up in front of him— mimicking so many of his nightmares— and Ace's mind went blank. Cold swept over him and he saw Jack rejoin the fight, staff twirling as he blasted the Nightmare King with ice. Pitch dodged or ripped out the projectiles easily and kept his superior smirk the entire time, only losing it when Whitebeard knocked him out of the sky with his power.

The Nightmare King landed gracefully and vanished into the shadows. Ace guessed where he was going to reappear and turned, flinching as Pitch rose behind him with his scythe raised. The Spirit of Fear was forced to dodge backwards as Marco ambushed him. For a moment, the Phoenix's talons did damage, but the slashes vanished quicker than even the Zoan could heal. Pitch fell back and studied them all for a moment, taking in the battle still raging around them. He snorted.

"You're all so  _infuriating_. Why fight when you cannot win?"

His eyes landed on Ace, who took a step back.

"Especially  _you_ , boy." Pitch sneered and rolled his eyes, gaze flitting over the other fighters. "I don't understand. How can you think he's worth it? Ace is broken. He's going to leave you all. He's a mute nutcase that will spend the rest of his miserable life causing you grie—"

"Shut up!" Luffy bellowed, interrupting the Spirit. "I'm tired of listening to you!"

Pitch easily evaded his attack, unintentionally running directly into a pillar of fire that spawned from nowhere. Ace blinked at it in confusion, then relaxed as Sabo entered the fray, literally blazing with fury. Jack smirked and struck Pitch again, pinning his cloak to the deck. The Nightmare King frowned, showing a flash of true anger before it vanished.

A grin formed on Jack's face. "You might as well give up, Pitch. Don't you see what's happening?  _We're_  not afraid of you."

The Guardian gestured at the people surrounding the Nightmare King. Determined faces stared at the Spirit of Fear, unafraid, and Ace never felt more out of place. They were not scared of Pitch and what he was doing? They did not fear for the lives of those that still fought to survive around them? Or was their desire to protect those lives stronger than their terror?

Pitch's eyes found the Summer Spirit again and he was paralyzed under that cold eclipse-like glare. The Nightmare King did not smile, instead staring at him with an unnervingly eerie neutrality. Then he nodded.

"Very well then."

Too quick for them to react, he spun, a sword forming in his hand.

He did not lunge for Ace, the one who feared him the most.

He did not go for Jack, his hated enemy.

He did not attack Luffy, the thorn that had most recently stuck itself in his side.

The Nightmare King went for the one closest to them all.

Again, thoughts left Ace, and he  _moved_.

Sabo was right beside him, eyes wide and mind blank as the Nightmare King dove for him, sword raised to stab. The Revolutionary was frozen, unable to dodge, but Ace did not let that same paralysis freeze him. The black-haired fire-user did not think to fight. He did not think to redirect the blow. And though the world seemed to slow down, Pitch's attack seeming to take hours instead of the mere second that truly passed, he did not have time to push Sabo safely out of the way. Ace had to protect his brother. He had to save him.

As he moved in front of Sabo, facing their attacker, arms outstretched , a detached sense of déjà vu overcame Ace then. He stood firm in front of his sibling, shielding him with his body, and his eyes slipped closed for even now he was unwilling to see what was most likely his incoming death. He was not afraid though. Not even for the brother behind him. Ace would not let any harm befall Sabo.

He… felt strangely calm. Accepting.

And maybe even a little glad.

_I'm sorry._

There was the sound of a blade sinking into flesh.

Ace stared at the black sword embedded in the tan stomach in front of him and slowly looked up in shock, meeting Marco's pained blue eyes. The Phoenix gasped lowly, blood trickling down his chin, but somehow smiled in relief, revealing red teeth. Time stopped, the entire world halting as the fire-user's mind refused to register what he was seeing. Then Pitch angrily yanked the weapon free and Marco fell forward, slumping so his head rested on Ace's shoulder.

Thoughts returned.

Feelings returned.

Comprehension dawned with the brutality of a tsunami.

_No. No. No nononononono_ _**no!** _

Ace did not have the voice to scream verbally. Instead his powers showed his terror and rage, fire and wind bursting from him and incinerating all the Nightmares and Fearlings in his range. A few pirates flinched, forced to retreat from the inferno, but when Pitch escaped relatively unscathed, the others instantly attacked, Whitebeard's fist sending him through the deck.

Ace heard Sabo make a low wailing sound behind him —tinged with dismay as he realized what Marco had done— but could not turn, reaching up and grasping the Phoenix's back. He felt warm blood on his hands.

Marco would be fine. He would be. He could heal from anything and everything. The wound was not the worst he had received. It was survivable. The Phoenix was not stuck with Seastone so he would be  _fine_ —

"It's okay, yoi." Marco whispered in a raspy voice, like he could hear Ace's thoughts. "Shh. It's going to be—  _A-Aah!_ "

Marco gasped, the sound low and painful. Ace glanced down and icy terror gripped him. Black marks were creeping from the wound in the Phoenix's gut, much slower than normal but still progressing. Then, abruptly, it stopped.

For a moment, Ace felt hope as the black marks receded in a burst of blue flames. Then they reformed, snaking along Marco's stomach faster than before. Again the blue flames pushed them back. Infuriated, the black sand  _surged_ forward. The Phoenix's body jerked, slipping from Ace's grasp and falling to the deck. Marco writhed in agony as his powers attempted to exterminate the poison, only for the black sand to regroup and attack his insides once more, trying to  _turn_  him.

_Nightmare_ , Ace thought numbly.  _Has to be…_ _ **Please**_ _._

He knew it wasn't.

Ace flinched again as Pitch was thrown past him by a livid Winter Spirit. Jack was almost glowing with power, covered in frost and wild like an untamed storm as he savagely shot the Nightmare King across the deck once more. The Guardian may have been screaming in rage, but his voice was lost amongst the shriek of the Wind, which viciously assisted in his mission to make the Spirit of Fear  _pay_.

Marco gave what could only be described as a whimper of pain, back arching off the wood as his healing ability struggled to keep the sand from consuming him. His eyes rolled back into his head and his body convulsed unnaturally. Ace gripped the Phoenix's hand like doing so would give the pirate strength, too stunned to cry.

This could not be happening. His mentor, friend, and big brother could not be slowly, agonizingly transforming into a monster front of him. It couldn't be real but it was real but it had to be a dream it had to be—

_Save him_ , Ace's mind begged.  _Have to save him. I can— I-I can…_

What could he do? How could he stop this? The Phoenix's abilities were holding off the transformation, but once the black sand reached his heart, it was over. He  _would_  turn. Marco would become Pitch's slave, and lose everything he ever fought for. His family, his mind, his soul, his  _freedom_. All of it would be taken from him.

But Marco's powers were fighting. His fire was fighting. Marco had fire and Ace had fire so maybe  _his_  fire could help. He had to try. He had to do something. He could not let the Phoenix die. He could not let him be transformed into one of Pitch's minions.

Ace could help Marco. He could save him. He could stop it. He could prevent the man from becoming a slave of the Nightmare King.

Flickers of white sparked to life at the Summer Spirit's fingertips, and he felt a strange warmth in his chest.

He could keep Marco fre—

Ace winced as he was ruthlessly shoved aside, hitting the deck hard and bruising his shoulder. He looked up to see Sabo supporting the Phoenix, holding him upright and looking wildly at Law.

"Remove his heart. Get it out  _now!_ " Sabo roared.

The surgeon did not ask why. He slammed his hand into Marco's chest and the Phoenix's heart flew out his back, carefully contained in a box-like field. The blond Commander's breath stuttered and the black sand surged, trickling further through his skin much like it did Ace's. For a second it emerged, clawing at the empty space where the Phoenix's heart once resided. Blue flames flared and it was forced back once more. Before the observers' stunned eyes, the terrible cycle continued, but it was slower, with each combatant unable to pull a victory.

Marco's chest heaved and he moaned, sweat beading on his brow. His eyes opened and the normally-bright blue orbs were hazy and seemed more greenish than cerulean. Ace tried not to think about what that meant.

The fire-user recoiled as Pitch slammed into the deck again— courtesy of a furious Winter Spirit— quickly regaining his footing. Flame-colored eyes met eclipse-like orbs and fire burst to life around Ace. If he took the time to notice, he would have seen the flames were orange and white. However, there were more important things to focus on.

The Summer Spirit sprang for the Nightmare King, the sky above them darkening. Lightning tore through the atmosphere, striking the Spirit of Fear, and Ace's mouth opened in a voiceless, enraged shriek as he threw out his hand, an inferno bursting from his palm.

Pitch was sent sprawling, pushed back by the blaze more than burned by it. Ace did not care, the odd warmth still lingering under his skin, and struck again anyway. Jack landed beside him and the two Nature Spirits continued their assault on the Nightmare King. Pitch momentarily quailed before their combined fury, thrown across the ship by fire and ice.

Then Pitch's back straightened and he gave a shout, shoving them away with his black sand and sending both Spirits soaring. Ace hit the mast hard, slumping forward as the air left his lungs, only for the Nightmare King to catch him by the throat.

" **You can't beat me.** " He hissed, voice low and echoing. "And I'm tired of playing games."

His fingers clenched, cutting off Ace's air, and the fire-user felt the sting of a blade against his chest. There was no time to think. His external flames extinguished as panic gripped him, and in near-desperation he called on the ready, available warmth still simmering inside his flesh—

Whiteness flashed before Ace's eyes, brief and beautiful, and when his vision cleared, Pitch had stumbled away from him. The Nightmare King was pale, clutching at his chest like he was in physical pain. His pupils dilated, then shrank to pinpricks, silver-gold irises clearly visible around the blackness in his eyes. He wobbled unsteadily, staring at nothing, and shock— and fear?— overtook his ashen features.

"No." Pitch gasped. " _No_. You're not rea— You're de— _ **SHUT UP!**_ "

Darkness burst from Pitch in a wave, sending even the strongest fighters crumpling to the ground. The Nightmare King stumbled around like a drunk, one hand on his head and the other on his heart, every movement jerky like he was a man possessed. Crazed silver-gold eyes found Ace again, rapidly darkening and lightening in color.

"What did you  _do_?" the Spirit of Fear snarled. "You—  _You_ — We'll  _ **KILL YOU!**_ "

In his attempt to scramble backwards Ace tripped, his descent cruelly halted as Pitch grabbed his arm, snarling like a feral beast. Instead of impaling the Summer Spirit like he so easily could, the Nightmare King threw him into the mast. There was a tell-tale  _crack_  as Ace's head struck the wood, and Pitch dragged him upright before slamming him down. Spots danced before the fire-user's eyes as he was smashed into the deck, hands wrapping around his throat once more.

Ace faintly heard distant shouts as his friends tried to reach him, unable to get through the mob of Fearlings that echoed their master's rage. Pitch did not snap his neck like he was perfectly capable of doing, instead slowly applying pressure, unhinged eyes never leaving Ace's face. Occasionally the Spirit of Fear's fingers would spasm and release, fleetingly giving the Summer Spirit hope for air, but then they would squeeze once more, twice as hard, as if the Nightmare King was forcing himself to lock the appendages around his victim's neck.

The fire-user was terrified, not because he was being strangled, but because this time he knew for certain it was  _real_. This was not a nightmare. Ace was going to die in front of his loved ones again. He didn't want to die like that. It would make them scared and maybe sad, especially Luffy. But he could not stop it. The Nightmare King wanted him to die slowly, to suffer before he perished, and with his body pinned beneath the Spirit and his fire abandoning him, all Ace could do was silently beg that someone came to help him in time.

Ace's flames were out of reach, his powers blocked by the fear coursing through his veins— or maybe he subconsciously did not  _want_  to stop his death— and he quickly found his struggles growing weaker as his need for air was denied. The best he could do was dig his nails into the Nightmare King's wrists and try to pry his cold hands from his throat. Pitch's fingers did not budge and his grin returned, sharp and unhuman. Ace was honestly surprised the Spirit of Fear was not ripping out his jugular with his teeth.

Ace's vision darkened and his arms fell to his sides, even as his body continued to jerk and twitch. His emotions wavered between fear and a distant, almost calm acceptance, half of his mind screaming that he did not want to die like this while the other half quietly murmured that maybe it was better this way. The Summer Spirit stared into cruel eclipse-like eyes and the Nightmare King chuckled lowly. Pitch leaned forward and whispered in Ace's ear in a low growl, unnervingly different from his usual silky purr.

"I win, foolish boy."

"Not on my watch,  _mate_."

Pitch half-turned in time to get a fist to the face. The Nightmare King released Ace, allowing him to take in a painful breath, and was struck again by the Summer Spirit's savior, forced from his position atop the feebly moving fire-user. Ace hacked and wheezed as he rolled onto his side, hand to his throat. He blinked, squinting, and felt his eyes widen as he took in the person who had rescued him.

A rabbit stood before him. Specifically, a tall, grey-furred rabbit, who stood on his hind legs and stared at Pitch with utter fury in his emerald eyes. Ace immediately knew who it was, but his mind could not accept it. How could he be  _here_ , on this world?

Then Jack gave a joyful shout. " _Bunny!_ "

The Pooka ignored him for the moment, throwing a boomerang at the Nightmare King. Pitch avoided the weapon, and was sent flying by a strike from a brightly-colored Fairy who resembled Baby Tooth. The Nightmare King moved as if to retaliate, only to be stopped again by a sword striking his neck. If not for his durability, the Spirit of Fear would have been beheaded by the third newcomer's slash, the bearded man's loud laugh acting like a rallying cry.

Jack, Sabo, Thatch, and the others resumed the attack, converging on the Nightmare King and his minions with newfound strength. Ace sat where he was, too shocked to even think about joining in, but found the fear constricting his chest lessening.

A whoop rose over the resumed sounds of battle, out of place but marvelous as the person gave a happy shout. "Shanks and the Allies are here!"

The darkness that was the Nightmares and Fearlings split apart, revealing the Red Forcs and New World Captains' ships. More cheers rose through the air as the pirates joined the fray, leaping from their ships without hesitation as they rushed to assist their Yonko's crew. Pitch watched the shift with a snarl on his face, one hand still to his heart. His eyes met Ace's and his expression grew twisted, revealing something demonic and beastly lurking underneath. He effortlessly dodged Jack's ice lances, backing away.

"This isn't over." He hissed, eyes never leaving Ace. "You will  _die_  for this."

Then Pitch was gone, fleeing into the shadows. The remaining Nightmares and Fearlings soon followed without so much as a shriek, retreating before the invigorated defenders as they followed their master. A silence fell over the ships then, sudden but welcome, and again cheers rose up as the pirates and their allies realized they survived.

Ace got to his feet, ignoring Sabo's concerned look as he ran back towards the railing. Marco was still laying where he had fallen, ashen-skinned but breathing. A frazzled and furious Izo and Thatch guarded him, both of whom lowered their weapons when they saw who was approaching. The Summer Spirit knelt beside the Phoenix, touching his arm gently, and Marco slowly opened greenish-hued eyes. The First Division Commander's dull orbs focused on the fire-user and he smiled weakly.

"I'm okay, Ace." His voice was barely audible.

" _ **Look at what happened."**_  The man had to be thinking.  _ **"Look at what happened to me**_ **because of you** _ **."**_

Ace glanced at the black streaks creeping across his abdomen before they were momentarily vanquished by blue fire. He bit his lip, trying to not show his sorrow on his face. Marco took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"I know that look. Don't blame yourself, yoi. I—" He grimaced, pain flashing across his features. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. We're not losing you again."

" _ **If you weren't here, I wouldn't be hurt. It's your fault. It's YOUR FAULT."**_

Ace could not meet his eyes. He felt stares boring into his back and his skin crawled as he remembered what had happened. Pitch had revealed his secrets to everyone. They all knew he was a Spirit. Not to mention Marco had been injured  _because of him_. Again. And this time it was so,  _so_  much worse. The fire-user's heart began to beat faster and he struggled to remain calm, refusing to look at the people who had to be staring at and condemning him.

A shadow fell over him and he looked up at the rabbit that had saved him. More accurately, the Pooka. E. Aster Bunnymund, the Guardian of Hope, one of the Spirits chosen by the Man in the Moon. Unlike in the fire-user's nightmares, the Pooka's emerald-colored eyes were not judging as they took in the young Spirit. Instead they were calm and studious, carrying an air of cautious neutrality.

"So…" the Guardian of Hope said. "You must be Ace."


	33. Guilt

"So…You must be Ace."

It might just be because of Ace's current position, but the Guardian of Hope seemed to loom over the Summer Spirit, looking down at him from a menacing height with neutral green eyes. Anxiety settled in Ace's gut, and he could not stop himself from feeling relieved when Thatch stepped between the two Spirits, knuckles white around his sword hilts.

"Who are you?" the chef asked warily.

Before the Pooka could answer, a blue and white blur slammed into his side. Bunny stumbled slightly, ears going flat with surprise, and looked down at the Winter Spirit clinging to him in bewilderment.

"You're here!" Jack cheered, voice strained like he was trying not to cry. "You're actually here."

Ace saw his wide grin falter and he clenched his teeth. Without preamble or explanation, Jack buried his head in the Guardian of Hope's chest, saying something undecipherable. Bunny glanced at the Fairy— Tooth— and the bearded man— North— helplessly, then sighed and embraced the Guardian of Fun gently.

"Nice to see you too, Frostbite."

Jack did not respond to the nickname, still keeping himself firmly attached to the Pooka. Too low for most of the people present to hear, the Winter Spirit mumbled something into Bunny's chest.

"I missed you guys."

Bunny's eyes softened. Ace felt his own mood lighten slightly as the other Guardians gathered around their youngest member, trapping him in a brief group hug. For a moment, the fire-user forgot about all the horrors he had seen and the carnage around them, a feeling of pure joy temporarily releasing the weights on his soul. Jack rubbed at his eyes and led the Guardians closer to Ace, Marco, and Thatch, grinning at all of them.

"This is Thatch, Marco, and Ace. Guys, these are the Guardians."

Ace heard Thatch gasp lowly. Then the chef gave the three a beaming grin. "It's nice to meet you all. Jack told us about you."

The Summer Spirit shot a puzzled look at the Winter Spirit, who smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. He turned back to his fellow Guardians, opening his mouth, only for North to hold up a hand.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well." The Guardian of Wonder said with a thick accent. "However, I believe we should talk later." His blue eyes flicked to Ace as he spoke and the fire-user instinctively ducked his head. "For now…" He turned to Thatch. "What can we do to help?"

The chef's visage grew grim, his eyes drifting to Marco. The Phoenix was still conscious— Thank Manny— but his expression was set in a near-permanent grimace as his power fought the black sand. Tooth recognized the markings for what they were first and made a small, unhappy sound. Her eyes flicked to Ace, spotting the sand's marks on him as well, and her expression grew solemn.

"Wait." Jack straightened abruptly, interrupting anything she might have said. "Where's Sandy? Is he with you?" The Winter Spirit's voice shook with a mixture of hope and anxiousness.

North reluctantly shook his head. "Sandy is back home, I'm afraid. He stayed behind so Pitch would not attack in our absence." His blue eyes saddened. "I see why you are asking, though."

"What are you talking about?" Thatch asked.

Jack hesitated and then looked at Ace. "I didn't think about it before, but Pitch's sand is Sandy's dream sand in a corrupted form. Sandy might be able to purify it and turn it back into dream sand, or maybe even remove it. But he's not here…"

 _He's on Earth_ , went unsaid.

Thatch and Marco's lack of questions about where Sandy was told Ace a lot. He slowly began to comprehend that the two knew about Guardians, Spirits, and Earth, and not because Pitch blabbed some information to them. Only one person could have told them then. An uncomfortable feeling took hold of Ace's gut and he dropped his gaze to the deck, not looking at Jack.

The Guardian of Fun had told the Phoenix and chef about the Summer Spirit. Why? When? How long had they known? Why had they not informed Ace that they were aware of his nature? The fire-user stomach twisted into tighter knots as he realized Marco had likely learned shortly before or right after the failed operation. Was that why he had avoided Ace? Was that why he had been mad at the fire-user?

"We'll talk about this later." North insisted, bringing Ace out of his thoughts. "Please, tell us where we can help."

Thatch nodded and sheathed his swords, glancing down at Marco and Ace. The fire-user hesitated. He quickly relaxed as Bay rushed over to the Phoenix. The doctor looked strained, hair slightly unkempt and eyes burning with a cold rage, but she started looking over the First Division Commander instantly, barely acknowledging Thatch and the Guardians. Ace made to stand but she grabbed his arm.

" _You_  all can go." She said to uninjured parties. Her stern glare transferred to Ace. " _You_  are staying here. I saw you get stabbed."

" _ **Looks like I have to fix you up**_ **again** _ **."**_  She had to be thinking.  _ **"Don't you know I have more important people to help? Instead I have to constantly take care of**_ **you** _ **."**_

Ace slowly recalled getting a knife in his wrist and winced. His other injuries pointedly made their presences known and he released a hiss of air through his teeth. When Bay turned to him worriedly, he shook his head fiercely and pointed at Marco. The doctor gave a huff and turned back to the Phoenix. Seeing that as a dismissal, Thatch led the Guardians away. Jack lingered behind for a moment, visibly uncertain, but Ace shooed him off with a waving motion. The Winter Spirit would do more good elsewhere than he would by staying at the Summer Spirit's side.

Left to his own devices, Ace settled more comfortably on the deck, trying to summon a smile as Bay berated Marco. He did not let himself think about the Phoenix and the fact that he was badly injured because of the fire-user. He did not look at the encased heart in the blond pirate's palm, which Bay looked at with a mixture of worry and alarm. He did not allow himself to lament that he was the one who should have taken the blow. Based on the angle of the blade, Ace would have gotten stabbed in the abdomen, but it might not have been fatal. Besides, he was already cursed by the black sand. He was already doomed.

And now his failure had likely doomed Marco too.

Ace was  _not_  doing a good job at not thinking about those things. He made himself focus on  _other_  subjects instead, though his choice did not help to lighten his melancholy.

The Summer Spirit slowly took in the destruction around him, guilt and sadness causing a tight feeling to form in his throat and chest. The Moby Dick had not escaped the battle unscathed. Large chunks of the railing and deck were broken, the mast had a worrisome crack in it, and part of the crow's nest was completely gone.

The Sunny had fared a little better, with Pitch focusing his attack on the ship that held the people he despised the most. The smaller vessel only had a few snapped railings and boards, superficial damage when compared to the Moby Dick. As far as Ace could tell, all of the Straw Hats had survived the fight, a thought that made the ache in his heart lessen the slightest bit.

As for the Whitebeard Pirates… it was naïve to believe all of them could get through the battle. Bodies lay where they fell, many in their own blood, and although some were being attended to by healers, others only collected mourners, brothers who stayed with their fallen siblings to grieve. That did not even include those that left no body behind.

Ace tried not to look at them, tried not to feel, tried not to think, but when Fossa walked up to him, Bay, and Marco, a clipboard in his hand and a tired look on his face, he could not stop the remorse from bubbling up again. Did the Commander's eyes convey exhaustion, or judgement? Was he sad or silently blaming Ace for what had occurred?

_This is my fault. Pitch wouldn't care about them if it wasn't for me. I should have left as soon as I woke up the first time._

"Marco, Bay, and Ace." Fossa murmured, almost to himself.

He wrote something on his clipboard, drawing a confused stare from the fire-user. Bay ignored the man's presence completely, continuing to check over Marco.

"We're doing a roll call." The Commander explained without being prompted. "We're trying to see who is still… here."

" _ **We're trying to see who was turned into Fearlings because Pitch was after you."**_

Ace was not stupid. Well, not stupid enough that he could not see the real reason for the checklist. The battle had been horrific, and not everyone had simply died. Many had been turned into monsters, their humanity and freedom callously stripped from them. The fire-user had known a fight with Pitch would end with pirates— former brothers and sisters— transformed, but could not bear to think about just how many had been lost.

He could not ask. Not just because his notebook was missing again— probably still down in the brig— but because if Ace heard the estimate of how many people were now slaves of Pitch because of him…

A memory floated to the forefront of his mind and he swallowed hard to keep himself from vomiting. He grasped the clipboard and pulled at it, and Fossa allowed him to take it from him. Ace's hands shook as he flipped through the sheets, eyes landing on a name among the Second Division.

Seeing the pattern on the pages, the fire-user struggled to maintain control as he wrote 'Fearling' next to Twitch's name. He did not remember the man that had been a part of his old Division. He did not remember what his personality was, what he liked, what he disliked, or anything other than his death. And it was not even a death. Twitch had been given a fate far worse than any demise.

_This is my fault. I'm to blame._

… _If I wasn't around anymore then maybe Pitch would stop all this and leave my friends alone._

Ace's thoughts began to wander down a very dark path but he pulled himself away from it. Giving himself up to Pitch would solve nothing and only give the Nightmare King a hostage again, and although killing himself would only make a couple people sad it might make Pitch leave them al—

_Bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts. Don't do that, Ace._

The fire-user took a breath, trying not to show his pain on his face. He could not stop the horrible thoughts from coming though. If he had not been resurrected, none of this would have happened. If he was not alive, Pitch would have zero interest in the occupants of the Moby Dick and Thousand Sunny. Sure, he would still be after Jack, but he wouldn't care about the others— Ace's family and friends— at all if not for the Summer Spirit's presence.

Ace was the reason the Nightmare King wanted to torment his loved ones. If it weren't for the Summer Spirit, the Straw Hats and Whitebeard Pirates would just be two insignificant pirate crews to the Spirit of Fear. Pitch might not even know they existed. They would not be floundering in the aftermath of a horrible battle, wondering which of their brothers were now—

Ace recoiled when something touched his arm, snapping out of his thoughts and meeting Bay's eyes. The doctor studied him for a tense pause, then dropped her gaze to his injured wrist. The fire-user pulled his arm from her grasp, pointing insistently at Marco. The Phoenix was still awake— But for how long?— and summoned a strained grin when he saw Ace's eyes on him.

"Bay's done everything she can for me, yoi." He said, voice barely above a whisper. "We're just waiting for a…" he paused. "… waiting for her to look you over. Then we'll head to the infirmary, okay?"

Ace gripped his pant leg with his uninjured hand, feeling his fingers twitch. Marco was going to say they needed a stretcher. The Phoenix was hurt badly enough that he could not walk on his own. The fire-user let Bay take his arm, watching carefully as she cleaned his wound. He nearly pulled away when he spotted the black sand amongst the blood, but the doctor was wearing gloves and remained unaffected by its power.

The Summer Spirit's gaze locked on the crimson and black dripping down his wrist, growing more and more upset as Bay wrapped the limb in a temporary bandage. He could  _see_  the sand accompanying the blood. Why was she stopping the flow? Some of the poison was being expelled from his veins. That was a good thing. Shouldn't she just leave it so he'd less of the wretched stuff in his cursed blood?

The doctor misunderstood the reason for his rising agitation. "Don't worry." She soothed. "The wound isn't as bad as it looks. The blade did not go all the way through. You will have to get stitches again, but it appears that none of your ligaments were damaged. Your wrist will heal up just fine."

" _ **Too bad. You'd deserve never being able to use your hand again. Why did you get stabbed there instead of in the chest?"**_

Her voiced assurances were not even close to being any of Ace's concerns but he smiled and nodded anyway. A couple nurses rushed over with a stretcher and lifted Marco onto it. Ace stood on his own to show he did not need one as well and obediently followed the medical staff down to the med bay, uninjured hand cradling his wrapped wrist.

He spotted the Guardians assisting with general clean up and first aid, unknowingly mingling with the Allies and Shanks' crew and likely making everyone assume they were part of a different group. The sight of them only served to remind Ace of his revealed secrets and he shut his eyes, waving off Bay as she touched his shoulder in concern.

It looked like he would have a couple hours of rest while everyone hurried to bring order back to the Moby Dick. Too many things had happened all at once, and if Ace let himself ponder about it, he might collapse beneath the pressure. For now, he would follow Bay to the infirmary, ignoring the destruction that spread even in the lower decks, and let himself be prodded and fussed over as his wounds were taken care of. After that, when thing settled down, he would have to face the music.

He had earned every piece of blame and disgust he got.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack had never really been in the aftermath of a battle like this before. The only fight of this scale he took part in was Marineford, and he had not been involved with what happened after the dust settled and the two sides broke apart to lick their wounds. The Guardian had left with the recovering Ace, and had not been around to see the pirates involved in the fight grieve. If he were a lesser Spirit, Jack might have fled in order to avoid seeing these men at their lowest, but he stayed and hoped he would never have to experience this again.

There was a feeling of grief that permeated the air, hindered only by the slight joy from the pirates as they realized they had survived. Crewmates stuck together in groups, grasping comrades' arms and scanning them for injuries, sitting at the side of those who were wounded… and quietly mourning over those that could not be saved.

Only the vitality of the pirates kept the atmosphere from being oppressive. The Yonko's crew did not sit around and mope, instead helping where they could, each man and woman doing their jobs without being asked to. The medics raced from person to person. The Commanders shouted orders and assisted in larger tasks. The shipwrights were already fixing what they could. Jack spotted Franky among them, seamlessly lending himself to their cause and following the commands of Moby Dick's best without protest.

The Straw Hats were all alive and mostly uninjured, though that was to be expected with such a small crew. Having nine people survive a fight like that which involved a larger group was not so ludicrous. Having every single person amongst a crew of almost two thousand endure it was impossible. Jack knew this. He understood it. And yet he could not help but wonder if he could have done more.

His did not give himself time to think about it. Knowing that Ace was in Bay's capable hands, he raced about, helping others in any way he could. He cleaned up broken planks, directed the Guardians and Straw Hats to places they could be of most use, and talked with the less injured as they waited for a nurse to come to them.

The last self-imposed job was unexpected, but people seemed to calm down when the Guardian was near. It was surprising that the wounded Whitebeard Pirates found Jack so easy to talk to, but the Winter Spirit was beginning to suspect his center might have something to do with it. It was hard to be afraid when fun was involved, after all. Or maybe they subconsciously associated him with the 'invisible friend' that accompanied Ace for all those years…

Faster than Jack thought possible, things were nearly back to normal. With the help of everyone who had come to the Whitebeard Pirates' aid, the wreckage had been cleared away, and the worst of the damage patched up. Everyone who could be saved was in the infirmary, and those that could not were laid out on the beach beneath sheets. The Guardian avoided that place, instead heading below deck. He immediately ran into Thatch, who stopped him in the hall with a hand on his shoulder.

"Your friends are in one of the guest rooms." The chef informed him lowly. "They'll have to talk with Oyai later, but I thought you'd like to meet with them in private first."

Jack stared at the man, surprised, then smiled. "Thank you." He hesitated. "Ace—"

"Ace is in his room." The Fourth Division Commander reported. "The infirmary was getting crowded so he left."

Jack felt a tingle of nerves. "He's alone?"

Thatch shook his head, not one to feel offended by his harsh tone. "Of course not. Sabo and Luffy are with him."

The Winter Spirit relaxed and thanked the pirate before following him to the Guardians. The three looked up as the door opened and Tooth flung herself at the ice-user, crushing him in a hug.

"Jack!"

The Guardian of Fun smiled at her. "Hey, Tooth. It's been a while."

"More than twenty years." She growled, eyes suspiciously bright. "I hope you have been taking care of your teeth."

Tooth pulled away from him, grabbing his head and studying his face. Then she hugged him again, her grip rivaling many of North's strongest embraces. The Guardian of Wonder chuckled and encased them both in his arms, reaching out and snagging Bunny before he could back away. Jack smiled as he heard the Pooka grumble and the Cossack laugh, still unable to believe they were truly here.

"I'm so happy to see you guys." He mumbled, trying not to get choked up.

"Same to you, Jack." North said. "We were so worried when we heard Pitch had come to this world."

A few months ago, Jack would have made a joke that he could totally handle Pitch on his own. Now, he could not claim such a thing, even in jest. The Winter Spirit gripped the Guardians tighter, quivering slightly as he bit his lips.

"I missed you." He said, even though he knew he told them the same thing before. "I-I really missed…"

Jack shook his head, unable to finish, and buried his face in North's chest. He felt Tooth's hand on his shoulder and Bunny's paw on his back, warm and solid and real, and struggled to keep his emotions under control.

"I thought I'd never see you again." He admitted. "It's been s-so long and Manny hadn't given any hints that he had a way to get me home and I thought I'd b-be stuck here forever."

The Winter Spirit did not intend to pour out his fears to his friends, but the sight of them brought his old fears back to the surface, even as their presence eliminated them all. It had been a while since he had truly considered his status and inability to get back to Earth, but now, with the Guardians here, he felt… complete. Like a piece of himself that had been gone for a long time had finally been returned. And with that completeness came an acknowledgement of just how long they had been separated.

 _More than two decades,_ Jack thought, feeling a rush of homesickness. _We're finally back together… after over_ _ **twenty years**_ _._

The Guardians were not just friends to the Winter Spirit. They were like his family. After being alone for so long, they had been the first to welcome him into their group, after a few incidents and bumps in the road, of course. Jack never truly realized how upset he had been about the separation until he found himself back with three out of the four Spirits, and suddenly found himself hard-pressed to keep himself under control.

Eventually, Jack gave up and ceased his attempts at stopping the saltwater from falling down his cheeks, turning into icicles and shattering on the floor. He heard North sniffle as well, and the largest pair of arms around him tightened.

"We're here now, Frostbite." Bunny told him gently, not teasing him for his tears. "It may have taken us a while, but we made it."

After a long minute, Jack reluctantly broke free of the hug, clearing his throat and kneading his eyes. "Manny said he didn't want to send any of you before because he didn't know how to get us back to Earth. Did he figure it out?"

The Guardians exchanged a knowing glance.

"You could say that." North said evasively. "It's more like… he  _remembered_  the way." The Cossack held up a hand, forestalling any questions. "We will explain, but I would rather only do it once, when all of the Spirits are here. Speaking of which, where is our resident Summer Spirit, eh?" He glanced around expectantly like he thought Ace would magically pop out of the woodwork.

"He's with his brothers." Jack said. "Did Manny tell you about them?"

"Bits and pieces." Tooth said. "Mostly he told us about Ace." She smiled at the Winter Spirit, then rushed forward to hug him once more. "I'm just so  _happy_  to see you, Jack. We didn't know you were here. Shanks only told us about Ace."

"Well, I showed up after Shanks left." Jack defended the Yonko, then paused. "You  _really_  have to tell me about your adventures. And I'll share…" He trailed off, slapping his forehead. "I forgot! Tooth, Baby Tooth is here as well."

The Fairy gasped. "Really? Oh thank Manny! Where is she?"

"She's with a man in a white spotted cap named Law—"

Jack broke off as the Fairy Queen flew out of the room like a large, hyper hummingbird, eager to find her missing Mini Fairy. Bunny rolled his eyes and North laughed.

Jack could not stop the smile from tugging at his lips. "…Someone will point her in the right direction eventually. Nice to see she hasn't changed much."

"Indeed." North said, and his amusement slowly faded. He put a hand on Jack's arm, expression growing solemn. "Once she returns, we should seek out Ace. The five of us have a lot to talk about."

His grim visage made Jack feel uneasy. "Okay. I guess." He winced. "Though Ace won't be doing much talking. He's… mute now. Permanently." The Guardian felt frost freeze his staff, accompanying the chill in his chest and he struggled to keep his expression light. "Pitch really did a number on him."

North and Bunny exchanged glances. The Cossack looked sad, entire face morphing into an expression of sorrow. The Pooka looked angry, eyes blazing like emerald flames.

"It wasn't your fault, Frostbite." The Guardian of Hope stated.

Jack blinked. "E-Excuse me?"

"You have  _that_  look on your face." Bunny said, flicking his nose and making him squawk indignantly. "The one you get when you're blaming yourself for something. Don't."

"You don't even know what hap—" Jack began, only to go silent when North ruffled his hair.

"The past has passed. Let us look to future,  _da_? Guilt will only bring you down, and we must be strong in body and mind when we next face Pitch." He paused and tilted his head forward slightly. "If I am not mistaken, Tooth knows American Sign Language. Perhaps she will be willing to teach Ace."

"If he even wants to see any of us." Bunny pointed out. "Firecracker looked ready to bail out when I looked at 'im."

North nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I saw. I suppose it would be rude to make him meet with us when he is not ready. If he wishes it, we will keep our distance for now and pass messages through you. We do not wish to invade his life and worry him."

Jack blinked, briefly wondering how they decided Ace might need space and should be approached with caution. Then he recalled his own reaction to the Guardians suddenly appearing in his life and smiled nostalgically. The circumstances could not be more different, but it was nice to know the Guardians had learned not to throw newbies in a sack and ask them to join the group with no warning.

"I'll go see if Ace wants to properly meet you." The Winter Spirit offered. He moved towards the door but froze, turning to stare at Bunny. "Wait. 'Firecracker'?" A wicked grin flashed across his face. "You already have a nickname for Ace? That's adorable!" He clapped his hands in delight.

Bunny scowled and gave Jack a playful shove, his ears quivering in what was likely embarrassment. "Shut yer trap. It's nothing."

Jack smirked. " _Sure_  it isn't. Already have a soft spot for the newbie, eh Kangaroo?"

The Guardian of Hope emitted a wordless spluttering noise close to the sound of an angry cat. "Not on your Nelly! He's probably more annoying then you."

Jack gave a dramatic gasp. "And you're already replacing me with him as your top tormentor? How could you, Bunny? I thought we were friends."

The Pooka snarled, nose twitching. "Just— Just— Go talk to him, Frostbite!" He growled irritably.

The Guardian of Fun raised his hands in a placating manner. "I'm going, I'm going." His smile faded and he sobered. "Listen, if Ace doesn't want to see you yet…"

"We won't take offense." North told him bluntly. "We may know each other through stories, but we're still strangers. We can give him a bit of time."

 _But not forever,_  Jack noted as he cheerily waved goodbye and hurried from the room.  _We need to work together if we're going to bring down Pitch. I just hope Ace's nightmares won't taint his interactions with the Guardians… Otherwise we could be in big trouble._

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace sat on his bed with his younger brothers, his arms, shoulder, neck, and side wrapped in fresh bandages. His head was on Sabo's shoulder, and Luffy leaned carefully against his uninjured side. The rubber pirate was paler than usual but had claimed he was not injured; a statement which had been confirmed by Chopper after seeing the wound on his head was only a scrape. Neither of them were hurt, and Ace could not be more grateful.

The younger brothers both had one of Ace's hands in their own, holding his fingers lightly as they sat in silence. They should be helping around the ship, but neither Luffy nor Sabo could bear to leave the Summer Spirit alone, apparently. Ace felt another jolt of remorse for making them waste their time on him when he did not deserve it.

At least they had not been given an official guard. That would have been awful, and make Ace feel even worse. Stefan had decided he would protect the brothers, growling warnings at anyone who tried to enter the room and snarling at shadows. After the attack, Ace could not blame the canine for his paranoia.

The squeak of an opening door interrupted the quiet, and Stefan's lack of a bark prevented the fire-user from looking at it. The Revolutionary peered up first, shooting Jack a tired smile as he crouched in front of them. Stefan bumped his head against the Winter Spirit's side and he obligingly gave the dog a scratch on his ears.

"Hey." Jack said softly. "How are you all doing?"

"I'm okay." Sabo responded quickly.

Ace shrugged vaguely, not wanting to share his turbulent thoughts.

Luffy did not move his head from the fire-user's shoulder. "Jack, you need to talk to Ace and yell at him for being stupid."

The three older brothers looked at the youngest in bewilderment. Stefan's ears flattened and he whined lowly. Luffy opened his eyes and sat up, staring at the Summer Spirit.

"Jack needs to help me convince Ace that we love him and want him to live." The rubber pirate said bluntly. "Did you see what he did in the fight against Pitch? Instead of dodging, he kept blocking blows with his body. I saw you do it. You could have died again, Ace." Luffy's voice cracked and he clung to his black-haired brother. "I don't want you to die."

Ace's eyes went impossibly wide and an awful, hollow feeling opened up in his stomach. He recalled what had happened when Pitch took the Summer Spirit hostage and he quivered, struggling not to return to the catatonia that would let him escape the guilt plaguing him. The call to oblivion vanished when Jack stepped forward and embraced him.

"I saw what happened." The Winter Spirit revealed, voice not betraying what he thought about the battle. "You really scared me, you know that?"

" _ **How can you be so selfish, Ace? How can you be so incompetent?"**_

Ace looked down, feeling the guilt threaten to smother him. He did not have the energy to try to vanquish it, instead feeling its hold on him grow stronger. Jack carefully brushed his hair out of his face and the fire-user found himself hard-pressed to avoid the Winter Spirit's blue eyes. He quickly failed, gaze unwillingly locked on Jack's, and the Guardian's brow furrowed.

"So that's what he meant." Jack spoke softly, almost as if he did not mean for Ace to hear him. Then he sighed. "I know you blame yourself for what happened. I know you're still scared. Pitch told everyone a bunch of secrets, lies, and half-truths with the purpose of hurting you. But know that the people who matter most to you are on your side, okay? We trust you, and believe in you, and  _love_  you. What happened was not your fault. None of it is your fault. You deserve to live."

The firm way in which he said the words made Ace go still. The fire-user wondered if the Guardian knew about the dangerous thoughts whispering at the back of his mind. He finally succeeded at breaking eye contact with the Winter Spirit, picking at a loose thread in his sheet. Jack's eyes flitted to their younger brothers before returning to the Summer Spirit, and he released another, heavy exhalation.

"Ace doesn't believe us." Luffy said openly, making Ace cringe.

" _ **Ace is lying again. He's always been a secretive liar. He doesn't trust us."**_  must be his brother's thoughts.

The fire-user caught a glimpse of his youngest brother's sad eyes and quickly averted his line of sight back to the sheet below them.

"Then I guess we'll have to make him." Jack said as if Ace was not there.

Though that might have been his intention. Most of their blatant, open, and stubborn claims could not be misinterpreted in Ace's mind and twisted into cruel statements that tore at his sanity. They believed what they were saying was the truth but the fire-user could not understand it. How could they say Pitch's attack had not occurred because of him? How could they want him to live when even he was not sure he wished to anymore?

Jack climbed onto the bed, crawling by Luffy and settling behind Ace. Stefan took the Guardian's position in front of the fire-user, furry body pressed against Ace's legs. The Winter Spirit leaned against the Summer Spirit, back to back, and Ace felt a bubble of peaceful tranquility as his brothers gathered around him. He felt shielded, protected, and for a moment not even his self-loathing could touch him.

They stayed like that for a long time, not speaking, merely together, and Ace felt his muscles loosen. He closed his eyes, feeling his brothers leaning against him, and just took a moment to breathe. He trusted them to ensure he did not fall asleep, Sabo and Luffy's warmth and Jack's soft cold anchoring him in the waking world.

Then Jack spoke. "I know you probably don't want to hear this but… the Guardians would like to talk with you."

From his position, the Winter Spirit likely felt Ace's breathing stutter. Luffy's grip on his hand grew tighter, and Sabo sat up, looking back at the Guardian of Fun.

"The Guardians are here?" Blue eyes went round. "You mean the rabbit and Fairy that showed up with Shanks are…?"

"Yeah. That's Bunny and Tooth. North was the bearded guy in red." Jack said.

Ace stiffened as he felt Luffy's arms wrap around them all, the rubber pirate's grip achingly tight.

"Are they going to take Ace away?" the Straw Hat Captain asked shakily.

"No." was Jack's instant response. "They're here to help us stop Pitch."

"But after that they're going to take Ace away." Luffy said, refusing to let the subject go.

Ace tipped his head so his cheek was resting on his little brother's hair, trying to comfort him. His mind blatantly rejected all thoughts and emotions about his future, leaving him in a detached state. The rubber pirate was trembling, head down, and the fire-user would not be surprised to see tears in his eyes. He did not look, knowing that seeing Luffy cry would cause him to break down as well.

"Maybe. Eventually." Jack admitted helplessly. "Apparently they've been given a way back to Earth."

"I don't like them." Luffy informed him.

Jack sighed heavily. "I expected as much." He turned to Ace. "That's not the current… issue, though. We need to talk about some things. Probably Spirit things." He winced. "And they would like to meet you properly. Only when you want to though. They're willing to give you time."

"Not  _enough_  time." Luffy muttered.

The Winter Spirit did not deign that with a response. "It's totally up to you."

" _ **If you say no, you're a selfish coward. We'll**_ **know** _ **you're a coward… though we've always known you're a self-centered weakling, so don't bother hiding it."**_

Ace delayed in answering, instead stroking Stefan's fur. The dog stayed mostly still, his tail wagging happily, and looked at the fire-user with dark, solemn eyes. The fire-user struggled to come to a decision. Unbidden, a memory of one of his many nightmares rose to the front of his mind.

_Ace knew he was in a nightmare. He knew that not only because he was not on the Moby Dick, but because with his injuries, he should be dying or dead. He was pinned to the ground with swords in his wrists and gut, while numbness in his lower half prevented him from moving his legs. He supposed he should feel grateful for his lack of feeling as he craned his neck, peering at the bloody strips of skin his calves and feet now consisted of._

_The sources of his situation loomed over him, apathetic and cold, and Ace shut his eyes, not wanting to look at them. These were not the Guardians. They were not Jack's close friends. They were hallucinations conjured up by his greatest fears. But knowing all that could not stop them from hurting him with blows and insults._

_And in his opinion, the words were so much worse than any injury they gave him._

" _Are you done running, mate?" Not-Bunny asked coldly._

_Ace's response was to cough up a clot of blood, a pained grimace crossing his features. He tried to distance himself, to detach his mind from the outside world so he did not hear what they were going to say, but a punch from one of them was enough to force him back into his body. Bunny crouched beside him while North and Tooth looked on, still closed-off and angry. No, not them. It was_ _**not** _ _them._

" _Do you know what you've done?" the Pooka demanded. "You let Pitch go. He_ _ **killed Jack**_ _and you_ _ **let him go!**_ _"_

 _Vague 'memories' floated up to the forefront of Ace's mind and he trembled. He remembered now. Even though he knew this was a dream, when he and the Guardians— including a Not-Jack— had found Pitch, the fire-user had gotten the brilliant idea to try to reach Kozmotis. Needless to say, the 'Pitch' in this dream was not the real Nightmare King, a thing which might have been good in hindsight. The fake Spirit of Fear had responded violently to his attempts at reason, shooting a harpoon at Ace… and Jack—_ Not Jack _— had taken the blow._

 _The Winter Spirit had died instantly, pierced through the heart with his blood splattered on the lair floor. Pitch had escaped because Ace was too stunned to react, and the Guardians—_ Not the real Guardians _— had turned on the fire-user, chasing him for weeks until they finally brought the traitorous Summer Spirit down…_

It wasn't real _, Ace reminded himself._ Jack is okay.

" _How could you be so_ _ **stupid**_ _?!" Tooth shouted, pink eyes filled with tears of sadness and rage. "Pitch is a monster. He's a demon. Just like_ _ **you**_ _!"_

_Ace cursed the stinging in his eyes. None of this was real. There was nothing to cry about. The real Jack was fine. The real Guardians did not hate him._

Yet,  _his mind supplied_.

" _Manny never should have chosen you." North was the next to condemn him, tone soft with aching disappointment. "You are not worthy of being a Spirit. You are not worthy of being a Guardian." His voice caught and he clenched shaking fists. "What did Jack see in you that was worth his life?"_

_Ace's guilt grew as he heard the Cossack begin to sob. His own pain was briefly forgotten and he opened his eyes, trying to convey his remorse and compassion. Bunny struck him in the side with his foot, making the Summer Spirit lurch and writhe as the action made his wounds worse._

" _Don't pretend to be sorry!" the Pooka snarled. "You don't get to be sorry. This is your fault. YOUR FAULT!"_

_With that, he grabbed North's other sword, and drove it into Ace's chest._

Ace still felt on edge and rattled, like his every nerve was exposed, and even though Bunny had saved him and he knew that the Guardians were good people, he could not find the resolve to see them yet. He understood Jack wanted him to and that he should get the first real interaction out of the way, but was not strong enough to make himself bend to others' desires and expectations this time. The Summer Spirit shook his head, guilt weighing heavier on his shoulders than ever before.

 _I should be able to do this but I_ _ **can't**_ _. I've already faced my brothers and Garp and was fine. This should be easier than any of that. But…_ Memories and nightmares flashed through his mind, melding together with all his worries about the future, and he bit his lip.  _I'm so pitiful. I can't believe I'm feeling so insecure again. I should be over this. I must not be trying hard enough._

"I understand." Jack said. "Don't feel bad about it."

" _ **Should have known. Pathetic."**_

 _Too late_ , Ace thought morosely.

"Ace isn't listening again." Luffy informed his brothers.

" _ **Ace is being phony and weak again."**_

"We know." Sabo said. He gave Ace's hand a gentle squeeze. "That's okay. We love him anyway."

Ace wanted to scoff and claim how mushy and unnecessary that blunt statement was, or at least smile and pretend the words lifted his spirits, but doubted he could manage either option even before everything that had happened. He merely sighed. Was he really so pathetic that they felt the need to knock him over the head with their thoughts about him now? Didn't they know it wouldn't help? He didn't deserve their love or kindness. Why couldn't they see that?

Ace supposed it did not matter. Apparently his brothers would love him no matter what catastrophes he caused. He knew others would not be so lenient. Everyone knew what a coward and freak he was now. Everyone had every reason to hate him for causing their comrades' injuries, deaths, and horrible fates. It was impossible to think no one would be angry at him. It was naïve to think otherwise. Retribution and loathing would come from somewhere. It would be fine though. As long as Ace had his brothers, he would endure.

But with the Guardians' arrival, it seemed like even they would be lost to him soon.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack returned to the Guardians alone. He loathed leaving Ace, but did not feel comfortable with delaying any longer. Although the Summer Spirit was with his brothers, he looked terrible, eyes dark with exhaustion and skin paler than a ghost's. Part of it was likely due to stress from what had happened, but the Winter Spirit was slowly realizing that Ace had not slept since the brothers had reunited, maybe not even before that. Jack uneasily predicted that the fire-user was going to collapse soon, and resolved to help him stay awake as long as possible.

For now though, Jack needed to speak with the Guardians. Not only because he missed them and really wanted to take some time to catch up, but because he sensed they had some rather important things to discuss. The Winter Spirit was not one for meetings and deadlines, but when said important things likely had to do with Pitch, he made an exception. Ace was his priority, but he would rather do this when the Summer Spirit was conscious and had his brothers to watch over him.

Jack entered the Guardians' room for the second time that day, spotting North and Bunny standing in the center of the area. The two were conversing in low, serious tones. They looked so solemn, a far cry from the jolly man and easily riled-up Pooka he knew. The Winter Spirit did not like it. So many things were gloomy these days. It was almost like they were forgetting how to have fun.

_I might as well fix that._

The Guardian of Fun took a flying leap, landing squarely on the Pooka's back. Bunny gave a yelp and flailed comically, ears straight and eyes round. His expression instantly turned into a scowl when he saw the Winter Spirit.

"Hi." Jack said brightly.

Bunny's ears flattened. "Get off."

"Nope." The Guardian of Fun said, popping the 'p'. "You're cuddly and fluffy." He rubbed his cheek against Bunny's, smirking all the while.

The Pooka's eye twitched. "You're doing this to get on my nerves, ain't ya?"

"Yup." Jack chirped.

Bunny huffed and succeeded in detaching the Winter Spirit from his back. Jack caught himself before he could hit the ground and laughed. He flew out of range when the Pooka took a swipe at him, muttering angrily under his breath about annoying sprites. Tooth entered the room and the Guardian of Fun dove behind her, sticking his tongue out at Bunny.

Tooth saw the Guardian of Hope's vexed expression and giggled. "Are you bothering him already, Jack?"

"Of course." The Winter Spirit said in a purposely serious tone. "I have to make up for all the years I was gone."

North laughed. "If you are concerned about your time on Naughty List, do not be. You still hold record."

"Wow. I managed to stay on it from another world?" Jack asked. "Cool." He smiled at Tooth, only for it to fade when he noticed the lack of a certain small Fairy. "I thought you were looking for Baby Tooth and Law."

The Guardian of Memories' wings seemed to wilt. "I was. I can't seem to find them." The Fairy explained, wringing her hands. "But I heard Law's a surgeon so he must be busy right now. I can wait."

Jack pushed away the sadness that tried to return to him, nodding firmly. "Sounds good. I should have thought of that." He positioned his staff behind his head, gripping it casually with both hands. "So I talked to Ace. He isn't ready to meet you guys yet." He might as well say it outright instead of dancing around the subject.

"That is fine. We will not pressure him." North said, not the slightest hint of hurt in his tone. "However, we do need to talk. We have many Guardian things to discuss… like Pitch."

"Did Manny have any idea how to beat him?" Jack asked almost sarcastically. "I mean, other than the…"

He trailed off when Tooth grabbed something off her side, holding it out to him. It was a dagger, nearly a foot in length that looked like it was made of crystal and moonlight. The Guardian of Fun found himself transfixed by the knife, watching it shimmer and glow, even as a part of him recoiled in aberration. Jack did not touch the diamond dagger, instead eyeing it with a mix of awe and trepidation.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Is that…?"

"…a moonbeam dagger that can seal Pitch, yes." Tooth revealed.

Jack's reaction was split. He felt a surge of triumph as he studied the artifact that could imprison the Nightmare King, but experienced a hollow, numbing sensation as well when he recalled the sacrifice said imprisonment required. He swallowed uncomfortably, glancing uncertainly at the Guardians.

"Manny didn't happen to find a way to remove the… side-effects, did he?"

" _Nyet_." North denied quietly. "Afraid not. This dagger can seal Pitch, but the one who stabs him will be imprisoned with him. Manny predicted the blast that the sealing creates will be less destructive than the one that consumed his parents, but it will still be dangerous."

Jack did not know what to say.

"Don't fret, Frostbite." Bunny said in his usual drawl, reaching out and ruffling the Winter Spirit's hair. "Manny's little knife is a last resort. None of us are gonna walk up to Pitch and poke him with this unless we don't have another choice."

The Winter Spirit did not respond, staring at the dagger uncertainly. Tooth put it away, likely trying to get it out of his sight, but Jack's blue eyes followed the movement, staying on the knife as it rested in its sheathe.

"Are you all really okay with this?" Jack asked softly.

They glanced at each other before nodding.

"This may not be our world, but we are willing to do what we must to protect it from Pitch." North said for them all. "There may be other ways, but we must be willing to use the dagger."

The Guardian of Fun blinked, thinking about his words. His mind went to Ace, Luffy, and Sabo, and his distant horror gave way to determination. They might be able to stop Pitch without the moonbeam dagger. They might not. And if they were not able to defeat the Nightmare King normally… would Jack be willing to sacrifice himself to save his brothers?

It was not even a question.  _Of course I would. I'd do anything for them. Even trap myself in darkness for what could be an eternity._

Jack's thoughts drifted to a certain brother that was also well-versed in giving things up for the sake of others and he frowned. "Don't tell Ace about this."

Tooth blinked, startled by the fierceness in his voice. "Why not?"

"Because he's a self-sacrificing idiot." Jack said lowly. "If Ace hears about the dagger and what it does, he won't hesitate to use it."  _Even if it isn't necessary._  "I  _won't_  let him throw his life away like that."  _Not when I'm around._

The Guardians did not argue with him. Perhaps they sensed his resolve on the issue. Perhaps they trusted his judgement. Or maybe they simply did not feel comfortable with even hinting that the young Summer Spirit should give up his freedom to stop the Nightmare King.

"All right." North agreed verbally. Then he clapped his hands together. "Onto less dreary topics,  _da_?" His blue eyes twinkled. "I would rather we wait for Ace so I will only have to explain once but…" North reached into his bag. "… _This_  is how we will get home."

He pulled something out with a flourish. Jack's mouth fell open, and Bunny's chuckles told the Winter Spirit that the Pooka was getting a kick out of his shock. He could not help it though, his expression shifting into one of— dare he say it—  _wonder_.

North was holding a Snow Globe. But it was not a standard, simple Snow Globe. It was the size of a golf ball, quite tiny as it sat in the Guardian of Wonder's palm, and looked like it held a galaxy inside it. It was the deep bluish-black of a night's sky, filled with stars and sparkling lights that danced and swirled through the breathtaking void.

Jack reached out to touch it but refrained, afraid that contact would break the delicate-looking sphere. North gently grabbed his hand and dropped the globe into his palm. The Winter Spirit cupped his hands, staring at the Snow Globe, and watched the stars shimmer and soar, a smile pulling at his lips.

"It's beautiful." Jack murmured.

North's chest puffed up proudly. "Manny helped me make it special. It only goes to one place."

Jack blinked. "Where to?"

North opened his mouth, expression elated, before pausing and glancing at the walls suspiciously. "…I will tell you once Ace is with us." he said cryptically.

The Guardian of Wonder reached out, hand open. The Winter Spirit frowned unhappily and gave the Snow Globe back. The Cossack put it gently back in the bag, patting his satchel lightly.

He pinned the Guardian of Fun with a stern stare. "Don't speak with anyone about this. Not even your brothers."

Jack guessed he meant Sabo and Luffy, and felt a burst of instinctive outrage at the hint that the two could not be trusted. The Guardian of Fun chose to believe in his friends' reasons for being secretive, however. He did not know the whole story, so he would keep his knowledge of the star-filled sphere under wraps. For now.

North settled on one of the chairs in the room, returning to a more laid-back visage. "Since that is out of way, how about we share our stories,  _da_? It's been years, and Bunny has gotten into many misadventures."

" _I_  have?" the Pooka spluttered, outraged.

"We can talk later if you need to go back to Ace." Tooth interjected quickly, making the Guardian of Hope deflate.

Jack hesitated and then shook his head. "Nah. Ace is with Luffy and Sabo. He'll be fine for now."  _And he'll feel guilty if I go back without spending time with you guys._   _He knows I haven't seen you for years and if I return without talking to you he'll think it's because of him. Not only that but… I_ _ **want**_ _to talk to them. I missed them. Ace will be fine for a couple hours._

And so the Guardians stayed together, swapping stories and weaving tales of missing years, oblivious to the shadow lurking outside the door.


	34. Anxiety

Fear.

It was cold-wrong-cruel-unsettling, and they did not like it one bit. That should not be possible. They  _were_  fear. They controlled fear. They did not loathe it. They did not experience it.

_He_  did.

Confusion.

It was dizzying-altering-weakening-unwanted, yet they could not deny it was there. They-he did not know how-why he had awoken after so long, wispy remnants of a devoured soul suddenly finding himself pieced together and brought back to near-consciousness by white flames.

Hatred.

It crawled-boiled-bubbled- _raged_  in their skin, begging to be released. They saw the object of their hatred in their mind, the reason for their fear and confusion, and desired its complete destruction with nearly every fiber of their being. They fantasized about having the foolish fire-boy at their mercy, plotting his brutal demise eagerly, picturing every torture they would inflict upon him, every  _scream_ —

Defiance.

It broke through the hatred, created by the single fiber that did  _not_  want to destroy. The whispers that had been haunting him-them became a shout, disgusted by their plans and fighting against them, as if doing so would rip their need for vengeance from their mind.

They reeled back as he assaulted them, driven by a righteous fury and equally powerful need to protect, but they recovered quickly and shoved him back. The hated one was forced to retreat, deeper and deeper, his voice becoming a whisper once again. The whispers would not stop. He lingered, not even close to being whole, but with more pieces put back together than should be possible.

He was completely impossible. He had been killed, devoured by them, transformed into a monster that they merged with to become strong. He had whispered long before the contact with those cursed white flames, but had been more like an echo of a long-forgotten voice than an actual presence. Then the child—  _killhimriphimapartmakehimsuffermakehimbeg_ — had done  _something_ , and it was like he had been awakened from a deep sleep.

Now he would not shut up.

When they-he plotted for the foolish Fire Spirit's demise, he would object. When they-he pictured the boy, he conjured images of a daughter even they-he missed, calling the boy their grandson, their family, and surely they- _bothhe_  could not harm family. When they-he gleefully thought about how they would defeat the Guardians, he would murmur that there was another way.

Something in Pitch had been split apart. Or maybe something long dormant had simply been given enough strength to reform. Either way, the Spirit of Fear sat alone in the darkness of his lair, head filled with snarls and whispers, as the Nightmare King and Kozmotis fought to be heard. The Fearlings that made up his being were much louder and more powerful, yet the once-heroic man's whispers would still trickle through his mind, making him  _hesitate_.

It made his chest hurt. It made him feel strange. He felt… confused.

And it was all Hiken D. Ace's fault.

The Nightmare King leapt on this line of thought, speaking to him, murmuring, no longer attached to him like one mind and no longer his own thoughts. Pitch was in pain. It was because of the Summer Spirit. Surely killing him would make it stop, right?

Kozmotis— No,  _not_  Kozmotis. That man was  _dead_ — tried to say something but Pitch ignored him. Ace had done something to him to make a hallucination of that man spawn. The Summer Spirit had done something to change him, to make him question his own mind. It must have been intentional. The foolish boy may act like an innocent, helpless brat, but he was a manipulator and liar. He had attempted to speak with 'Kozmotis' before, planting seeds of doubt, making Pitch  _wonder_ —

Pitch's rage returned and the pain in his head and heart ceased. 'Kozmotis' grew silent, like he had never existed, and the Nightmare King snarled, striking the wall in rage as he realized what had happened. The Summer Spirit had tried to manipulate  _him_. He had tried to turn the tables and make  _Pitch_  lose faith in his sanity. He had tried to use the Spirit of Fear's own tactics against him. He would pay dearly for that. Oh so  _dearly_.

The Nightmare King stared straight ahead, eyes narrowed and cold, and began to plan. A part of him wanted to go and murder the stupid boy for his arrogance, but the crueler part of him refrained, instead slowly laying out a different plan. It would not do to simply kill Ace. Not for this. The Summer Spirit needed to suffer. He needed to be  _broken_  and begging at Pitch's feet before he died.

Slowly, a plot came together, and Pitch felt a savage grin cross his face. He knew Ace's mind by now. More importantly, he knew his fears. The Summer Spirit had lived through them in dreams so many times, it was hard for the Nightmare King to forget them. But that was the point, and the problem. In the end, the nightmarish visions were just that: nightmares. The foolish boy had come so close to breaking, only to be saved by waking up and being reassured by his friends.

So… what would happen if he could not wake up? What would happen if his friends could not assure him his fears were fake?

What would happen if his nightmares became real?

The Nightmare King approved.

The thing that was not Kozmotis stirred but stayed forcibly silenced.

And Pitch began to laugh, cruel and psychotic, with only his minions around to hear him.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Eyes forward. Expression blank. Back straight. Hands steady.

Ace wondered what he looked like to the outside world. Could others see past his stoic façade, or could they spot the shame within that threatened to drown him? Did he look uncaring, cold, and arrogant? Did he look remorseless and unaffected by it all? The Summer Spirit could not decide which was worse: the others seeing how guilty he felt, or them believing he felt nothing at all.

The funerals for the fallen had been held that morning, with the deceased laid to rest on the unnamed island that would serve as their graveyard. Almost all had been present, from the Whitebeards and their Allies, to Shanks' crew and the Straw Hats. Even the Guardians had attended, silent, solemn spectators in the background as the family mourned, though some doctors had been noticeably absent from the proceedings.

Ace saw many steal glances at him throughout the ceremony. Some were neutral, others skeptical, and still others… angry. The fire-user tried to convince himself that his paranoia was skewing his perceptions again, but there were too many glares to brush off as fabricated. His mind filled in the thoughts behind those glowers easily enough, as clearly as if their sentiments had been spoken.

" _ **They're dead because of you."**_

" _ **This is your fault."**_

" _ **What makes you so special that they had to die for you?"**_

" _ **You never should have come back."**_

Ace kept his apathetic mask in place, even after the fallen had been buried. He did not allow himself to cry, not only because of his foolish strands of pride, but because he knew he had no right to show any signs of grief. He did not remember any of those who died. To him they were strangers, when in reality they used to be crewmates and maybe friends. The possibility that he would recall who they were years later and realize who he had lost haunted the Summer Spirit, weighing down on him almost as much as the probability that he would never remember them at all.

Even after the funerals, the stares continued. Ace knew what they were thinking and feeling, Pitch's claims coming back to the fronts of their minds now that the aftermath of the battle was over with. He wanted to explain himself, but questioned if his reasons for secrecy and avoidance could be considered reasons at all, or merely excuses. So instead he avoided the masses as best he could and felt more like a prisoner and outcast than ever.

His chest hurt.

Jack, Luffy, and Sabo were trying to help, but even the Winter Spirit and Thatch were having trouble staying cheerful. Ace guessed they would bounce back after a couple days, and wondered if it was self-centered of him to hope they would cast aside their melancholy and lift the spirits of those on the ship. It was a selfish desire, but that was what Ace was: Selfish.

How could he be anything but selfish when he was dragging everyone down?

Ace  _tried_. He tried to push past the exhaustion and depression gripping his mind and soul, but at best his efforts were abysmal. Even Luffy noticed the fakeness of his smiles, his own grins fading when he thought his older brother would not see. The Summer Spirit felt like the misery hanging over everyone was his fault, like he was the cause of their somber mood. Trying to make himself believe otherwise only made him fall deeper.

The mess hall was possibly the worst place to be, but Luffy was hungry and Ace was still not allowed on the Sunny so the rubber man had insisted on eating on the Moby Dick. Marco's usual spot near Whitebeard was blatantly empty. The fire-user did not know the Phoenix's status, only that he was conscious and alive. He could not find the courage to go visit the man and see just how bad he was.

He knew Marco would not blame him for his injuries, which just might be worse than if the man screamed condemnations at him. Ace could not bear to face the Phoenix just yet. He could not just stand by and watch the black sand and blue fire fight over his friend's body, brutally battling for control and likely causing the blond-haired pirate unimaginable pain.

The fire-user wondered if Sabo felt as guilty as he did. The Logia had been acting strangely ever since the attack. He was not really  _paranoid_ , per se— not like Ace— but he was very… twitchy and almost possessive. Like now. Between taking large bites of food, Sabo was always watching Ace, staring at him with eyes that shifted between anger and concern before letting his gaze roam over everyone else, constantly looking for a threat.

Between his blond-haired brother's reaction and everyone else's, being in the mess was torture. Ace could feel the stares, hundreds of them. Judging, hating, suspicious, disgusted,  _knowing_. He stared at the tabletop the whole time, refusing to meet any of the justified glares. He wanted so badly to withdraw but could not. He had screwed up again. Every time he was by himself, something bad happened, reinforcing the notion that he could not be trusted to be alone.

The dark thoughts were returning, louder than ever before, and it was becoming harder to ignore them. Whispers popped up in Ace's mind, many mocking and belittling him in the voices of his friends, while the worst murmured that maybe it would be better if he were dead. If he weren't here, Pitch wouldn't care about the Whitebeards. If he disappeared, everyone would be better off. If he died, the burden he put on people would be lifted—

New whispers started up, forming terrible plans that made Ace mentally recoil. Accompanying them were thoughts that he should leave so he could not harm his family anymore. The fire-user had just enough intelligence to understand that giving himself up to Pitch would not help anyone. The Nightmare King would not just kill him and be done with it. He would use Ace as a hostage so his friends and the Whitebeards would be unwilling to fight back when Pitch attacked them.

The fire-user could usually muffle those thoughts by reminding himself that Jack, Luffy, and Sabo, and maybe a few others, would be upset if he died. He tried to tell himself he was being overdramatic again, that he should stop feeling sorry for himself, that he was overthinking things, that he was fine, but the notion that him being alive was hurting people would not let him be.

_Stop thinking about it_ , he tried to order himself.

He vaguely heard… someone lightly berating Luffy for… something but could not focus enough to identify the speaker or words. Ace was zoning out a lot more than he had before, it seemed, but staying in his head was preferable to interacting with people.

_People like the Guardians_ , Ace thought.

The Summer Spirit's mind seemed determined to take away any sanctuary he had left. Whenever he thought about speaking with the Guardians, a hollow feeling would open up in his gut. His breathing would quicken, his skin would blanch, and an awful feeling of cold would wash over him. Ace knew he was being stupid  _again_. He knew he should just man up and talk to the figures that haunted his nightmares. But he couldn't do it. So here he was, being a selfish coward like usual.

It was not the Guardians' fault. They were wonderful people, great people, people that would not despise him, but Ace could not think of the Guardians without thinking about their origins, and the tiny fact that if they were here, that meant he was going to have to go to Earth.

_Huh. So I'm going to have to leave my brothers either way_ , the fire-user mused, finding the thought almost funny.  _But I already knew that, right?_ It felt like something was squeezing his heart.  _Why does it have to hurt now?_

Something nudged Ace's knee, startling him out of his downward spiral. He looked down, meeting unjudging dark eyes. Stefan dropped a ball in front of him, ears perked and tail wagging hopefully. The fire-user stared at the dog uncomfortably, feeling unworthy of the happiness in his eyes.

_Don't look at me like that_ , he pleaded mentally.  _I don't deserve it._

Stefan poked the ball towards Ace with his nose, whining softly. The Summer Spirit noticed the quiet that had gripped the mess hall then, and looked up at last to see almost everyone  _watching_. They were observing as Ace could not find the energy or will to even play with a dog. The fire-user could feel his throat constricting, the warning signs of a panic attack incoming. He could feel his anxiety growing. He balled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms.

_Not now. Don't flee. Breathe._

A sudden scraping noise made him jump again and he glanced up to see Luffy pushing his chair back. The rubber pirate grinned at Ace, reaching out and pulling at his hand. "I'm done. Let's go, Ace."

Ace stared at his brother, the words bouncing around his head but refusing to compute.  _Force a smile. Nod. Do_ _ **something**_ _, you idiot!_

Eventually he let Luffy pull him from his seat and out of the room, with Jack, Stefan, and Sabo following behind them. A glance backwards nearly made him freeze in his tracks, and it was only the Straw Hat Captain's hold on him that kept him moving forward. On the table behind them was a plate with a small piece of meat still on it.

_Luffy didn't finish his food._ _**Oh** _ _. It's my—_

His brother halted abruptly in the hallway, turning around and encasing Ace in a hug. The fire-user trapped the air in his lungs in an attempt to prevent Luffy from hearing the frantic wheezing his breathing had become. Jack laid his hand on his back, making the Summer Spirit twitch again.

The Guardian frowned. " _Breathe_ , Ace. In and out."

" _ **Are you seriously having a panic attack**_ **again** _ **?"**_

Ace tried to do as he commanded, fighting the urge to hyperventilate as his skin went clammy and his limbs went weak. Luckily— or unluckily— Luffy was there to keep him upright. The Straw Hat Captain's dark eyes focused on his face, taking in his every shiver and shift in expression. Luffy's lips parted like he wished to say something, but he did not speak, merely hugging Ace tighter.

"Love you, Ace." He said bluntly.

There was no reason for him to speak the words, but Luffy did anyway. He, Sabo, and Jack seemed to be saying that a lot lately. It was almost like their claim was a replacement for the usual 'It's going to be okay.' Ace did not understand it, but could not deny the slight calm that washed through him as Luffy stated that he cared about him. He did not deserve their care and it would only cause them pain in the end but surely it was not too selfish of the fire-user to accept it and—

When Ace refocused again, the four brothers were against a wall. He was situated between Jack and Luffy, with Sabo glaring down the hallway and looking ready to incinerate anyone who came close. The Summer Spirit felt another jolt of panic when he failed to remember moving, but Jack's cold hand on his shoulder allowed him to stay lucid.

"What happened?" the Winter Spirit asked once he saw he had Ace's attention.

" _ **Why'd you freak out this time, huh?"**_

The fire-user thought about ignoring him. He did not want to burden the Guardian of Fun even though Jack had asked for him to share things and claimed he would not be burdened but how could Ace tell him all the things going through his head and hurting him and confusing him and making Ace think it might be better if he just gave up and—

When the world returned again, Luffy's lips were pursed like he was trying not to cry. Ace's eyes darted around and he did not see anything different. Had he zoned out again? How long this time? The fire-user prayed it was his exhaustion that was making him so drifty. Then he recalled the last time he had this much trouble staying aware and winced. Ace could not summon a smile to erase Jack's worried glance so he just wrote in his notebook, hoping he remembered the question.

" _They were staring."_

The sentence revealed close to nothing about his thoughts but it might be better that way. Despite claims otherwise, Ace and his problems were burdens that he did not want to put on his brothers' shoulders. They should not waste time worrying about him.

Apparently they were going to do it anyway.

"You need to tell us if something is wrong. Please. I won't judge you." Jack murmured.

" _ **Not telling me things upsets me. Telling me things will upset me. Can't you do anything without hurting me?"**_

Ace knew that. He did. But would sharing help at all or would it just make more people miserable? He shook his head, causing Jack to exchange a glance with Sabo and sigh. The fire-user closed his eyes to avoid their looks and when he opened them, Stefan was in front of him. The dog emitted a soft, sad sound and prodded him with his nose.

_Go away._  Ace thought shakily.  _Go be with people who are kind to you._

Stefan ignored his mental order and clambered into his lap, tucking his head under Ace's chin. The fire-user gave in and held the dog, vision swaying dangerously.

_How many days has it been since I last slept? Ten? Fifteen?_

He felt the need to laugh and cry again, at the same time, just like he had when Pitch—

Sabo had moved. When had he moved? Oh Manny, Ace was still awake right? He had not fallen asleep, had he?

"No one blames you for what happened, Ace." Sabo said as if he had read the fire-user's mind.

" _ **Lots of them blame you for everything. It was your fault, after all."**_

Ace shook his head, not looking at the Revolutionary. He knew Sabo's spoken words were not true. People were not that forgiving. Ace was a stupid, traitorous, cowardly, broken liar and he had earned their disgust and spite—

"If they do blame you, they're stupid." Luffy of all people said. "And I'll punch anyone who's mean to you."

"Luffy—" Sabo began in exasperation, only to cut himself off.

Ace peered at his youngest brother to see him pinning the blond-haired Logia with a fierce glower.

"I  _will_." Luffy vowed, crossing his arms over his chest. "If they're going to be stupid and believe Pitch over Ace, they're not Ace's family."

Jack released a gust of air. "I hate to say it, but Luffy's right. The people who really love you and care about you will understand and move on, but… It's naïve to think every person will be fine with all the stuff Pitch said, even after the Commanders and Whitebeard clear everything up later."

_Oyaji is going to speak with everyone?_  Ace thought, confused.  _Did we talk about this?_

"Look." Jack said sternly. "You can't tear yourself up over this. What happened with Pitch  _wasn't your fault_. Those deaths and transformations  _weren't your fault_. Marco's injuries  _are not your fault_. I know I've said it before but I'm going to keep saying it until you believe it."

_Be prepared to say it a million more times then_ , Ace thought humorlessly.

Stefan snarled.

He leapt from Ace's arms and positioned himself in front of the Summer Spirit, hackles raised and lips pulled back, exposing his teeth. The four brothers were quick to get to their feet as well, alarmed by the dog's guttural rumbles. Ace followed the canine's gaze and his anxiety came back tenfold. From his spot down the hall, Bunny took a step backwards, fur fluffed and paws raised. The pink-haired pirate beside him mimicked his movements.

"Manny curse it." Jack murmured before whistling lowly. "No, Stefan. That's Bunny. He's good." He paused, tipping his head as the barest hint of mischief entered his gaze. "Don't eat him."

"Har har." The Pooka grumbled, inching away from the dog.

Stefan kept growling in warning, expression practically feral. He did not stalk Bunny, instead lingering near Ace. The fire-user felt another wave of guilt. Could the dog sense his unease around the Pooka? Did Stefan think Ace needed protection from the Guardians? His remorse must have shown for Bunny glanced at him, ears twitching.

"It's fine. Bloody mutts don't like me." Bunny's green eyes narrowed. "And I don't like them."

The pink-haired pirate stepped forward and Stefan gave a loud, angry bark. The man instantly froze and shook his head, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Fine. I'll get food later." He muttered and walked away.

Ace watched him retreat and abruptly connected a name to his face. Squard. It was Squard. One of the Allied Captains. The one whose first crew Roger had killed. The fire-user's body moved without his permission and he ran after the pink-haired Captain, unable to call out and ask him to wait. Squard had been angry at Ace for being Roger's son before, but he had forgiven Ace, right? He had to make sure. He had to check—

Ace only noticed someone was ahead of him when he ran into them. The collision was not exactly painful, but the other person gave a low curse as the fire-user struck them. Unbalanced, Ace reached out blindly, snagging something with his fingers, and heard the tell-tale sound of tearing cloth. His tether now useless, Ace flailed clumsily, only for a large hand to grip his arm and keep him upright. The Summer Spirit saw the beard first and had to force himself to meet North's blue eyes.

_The universe hates me,_ Ace concluded.

His stress multiplied tenfold and he focused on the man's nose, hoping he would not notice. Something touching his foot provided a much-needed distraction and he stared at the small spheres scattered around them in confusion. Behind him, Jack swore and began scrambling after the globes.

"Don't let these break!" he warned.

Ace, North, Bunny, Luffy, and Sabo joined in on the frantic game of pick-me-up, gathering the globes. The fire-user's hands quickly became full and he stuffed a few of the spheres in his pockets and even his hat before picking up more. It may have been amusing to an observer, to see mighty pirates, Spirits, and Revolutionary chase after glass orbs like startled pigeons, but Ace could not find joy in the activity because two of the Guardians were  _right next to him_.

_Stay calm. Just stay calm. I'm not ready for this. I can't meet them yet._

After a few minutes of undignified lunging and running, all of the globes were gathered. Ace quickly put the ones in his hat in the bag North offered without looking the Cossack in the face, heart pounding a thousand beats a minute.

_Don't talk to me. Please don't. I'm not—_

"Thank you, Ace." North said brightly, beaming.

Illogical terror gripped Ace's mind and he ran. He took off with a speed that would make Jiru jealous, leaving his brothers and the Guardians gaping in his wake. Thudding footsteps told the Summer Spirit someone was giving chase, only for the sound to end in a loud crash.

" _Stefan!_ " Sabo shouted, apparently having tripped over the dog.

Ace turned a corner, thanking Manny that the hallways were empty this time of day, and soon found himself in the sleeping quarters. The banging of running feet started up again and the fire-user dove into the first door he could find, slamming it behind him and locking it. Silently pleading that he had not ended up wherever Tooth was, Ace slowly turned around, recognizing the bathroom.

_Here I am again. All I do is going in circles these days._

Ace put his back to the door and slid to the floor, grasping his hair in his hands and pulling at it. He was hyperventilating again, and this time there was no Luffy or Jack or Sabo to stop it. The fire-user pressed his hands to his mouth, breath raspy and uneven, and cursed the pitiful noises that manifested even with his muteness. Exhaustion threatened to swamp him and he pinched his arms hard, letting the pain startle him into temporary wakefulness.

His self-hatred sneered that he was being worthless again. His wisps of self-confidence crumbled a little more. His uncertainty whispered about how pathetic others must see him as. His doubts lamented about how weak he had become.

Parts of Ace's old crew hated, blamed, or mistrusted him. His brothers constantly had to look after him, making themselves miserable in the process. Marco had been badly hurt saving Ace's worthless hide. The Guardians were here, which meant Ace was going to have to leave his family behind soon, and the Summer Spirit was supposed to make a good impression, but instead he only made himself seem pathetic in their eyes, too afraid to even speak with them.

Not to mention Pitch could get to him any time he wanted.

Ace's eyes darted over the shadows in the bathroom and he quickly had to stumble to his feet to vomit into the sink again. Circles upon circles, repeats upon repeats, with nothing ever seeming to improve. Was that all his life was now, and would be for the rest of eternity? It was too many problems at once, and seeing the pile in his mind's eye, Ace could not even think of where to begin with any of them.

The Summer Spirit hunched over the sink, purposely avoiding looking at his reflection. He did not want to see how terrible and sickly he looked this time.

_Why was I reborn?_  He thought.  _Everything would be better if I stayed dead. Why did Manny choose me? I can't do anything right. Can't talk, can't sleep, can't move on, can't heal, can't die—_

There was a gentle knock on the door.

"Ace? It's Jack." There was a pause. "Just Jack."

Ace looked at the door and turned away just as quickly. He did not respond, not that he could without opening the convenient blockade between himself and Jack, and he had no intention of doing that at the moment. He wanted to escape it all. He did not want to talk or face the world. It was too much far too much he couldn't do it couldn't  _couldn't_ —

The Summer Spirit sat and leaned on the door again, as if doing so would prevent the Guardian from breaking it down. Jack tried no such thing, instead making sounds that suggested he was settling against the other side of the door. Ace did not have the stability to enjoy the silence that fell over them both, taking in gulping breaths as he tried to calm himself down. It was not working, and black spots danced in his vision.

_Please don't do this to me. Please don't let me fall unconscious now._

"Have I ever told you the story about the Blizzard of '68?" Jack asked suddenly. "Well, I know I have, but do you want to hear it again?"

Ace searched his memory for the tale, picking up bits and pieces. He raised his fist and tapped the wooden door twice.

"I'll take that as a yes." The Winter Spirit said lightly. He exhaled slowly, and when he spoke again, his voice was muffled, like he was pressing his cheek on the wood. "Just… I'm here for you when you want me."

Ace knew that.

He believed that.

He just wished Jack would stop wasting his time on him.

The Summer Spirit could not say share his thoughts however, not that he likely ever would. Instead he merely tapped the door twice again and settled against the cool wood, listening as Jack told him a tale of ice, snow, and irate Kangaroos.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Marco was used to pain. During his life, he had been injured many times over, receiving wounds that would slay a man without his powers. It was true he healed fast, but in the moments the injuries lingered, he felt each and every one. The Phoenix could not claim he had become numb to it, but he had become accustomed.

He was not accustomed to this.

The black sand  _hurt_. It felt like shards of glass forcing its way through his veins, carelessly tearing at his insides and warping his organs until his blue flames forced it to retreat again. Then the cycle would repeat. The sand would crawl, the flames fight back. Over and over and over. Sometimes it was near-constant, other times the pain came in bursts, and in those instances it was difficult for Marco to hold in his sharp gasps and winces.

He mostly succeeded, but the worried glances Thatch was shooting his way indicated some of his suffering must have leaked onto his face. At least he had an excuse to keep his shirt closed. His purple jacket not only hid many of his blue flames, but also the cube-shaped hole his heart once resided in. Marco was a lot calmer about the fact that his heart was outside his body than many other people would be, but a simple explanation from Law had been enough to strip away his remaining unease. The surgeon had removed his heart in a way that did not hurt him, and would only be risky to Marco if someone stabbed the preserved organ. The Phoenix, Oyaji, Law, Bay, and a couple of the Commanders were the only ones aware of his heart's location, and Marco was going to keep it that way.

Still, the Phoenix could not help but feel slight shame for his previous treatment of the Heart Pirate. According to Jack, in other cases where the person was 'resistant' to being transformed into a Fearling, the heart was the place that was corrupted last and ensured the violent metamorphosis would occur. Law's actions had saved Marco's life, and although his body was now the battleground for a painful war, a stalemate was better than a potential victory for the sand.

If Bay had her way, Marco would be in a bed in the infirmary right now. Due to a lack of room and the fact that nothing more could be done for him, the Phoenix had convinced the doctor to let him go attend the meeting between Whitebeard, the Commanders, the Allied Captains, the Guardians, Shanks, Benn, a few of the Straw Hats, and Garp of all people. They were currently sharing intel—  _all_  intel each party knew— and Marco was pleased to note he was aware of most of it. He knew about Spirits, Pitch, Guardians, and Ace.

The only thing he— and the other Commanders and their Captain— had been ignorant about was that Pitch had been  _hunting their allies_. The thought of the Nightmare King killing their brothers and sisters made his blood boil, and he could see that Whitebeard was as outraged as him. They should have known something was wrong when a few of the Captains were late. They should have seen something was up when they did not answer their calls. Instead, it was only because of Squard that they knew at least one crew was gone, leaving them wondering if the rest of the missing Captains and their crews had been destroyed as well. It was a sobering thought.

_We should have foreseen something like this_ , Marco thought unhappily.  _Why would Pitch wait for us to gather when he can pick us off one by one?_

The Phoenix forced himself not to twitch as the sand reacted to his distress, making it feel like fire was ripping through his abdomen. Real— and helpful— flames soon flickered to life, beating back the poison, and he exhaled shakily. No one except Thatch and Whitebeard seemed to notice his struggle, thankfully. If others had, they would have tried to make him go rest, again. He was Marco the Phoenix, the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. He could not simply sit out on something like this. Especially since laying in a bed somewhere may allow him to fall asleep or pass out.

_This is what Ace has to live with_ , Marco thought, holding back another cringe as the sand wreaked havoc inside his flesh once more.  _Please let his case not be as bad as mine._

The thought of Ace feeling constant pain for months made his stomach churn and Marco quickly aborted that line of thought. The full implications of his situation had not hit the Phoenix yet, and he intended to keep it that way and avoid thinking about it too deeply. Fear and unease would only make things worse, and Marco was leery to face the sand's full torments just yet. He had half-a-mind to talk with Ace about what to expect, but the fire-user was evading him like his life depended on it. Again.

Marco felt ice trickle through his veins and gritted his teeth, hissing lowly.

"Are you okay?" Thatch asked instantly, but quietly.

"Fine, yoi." The Phoenix said curtly.

The chef hummed, not believing him in the slightest, and Marco had to hold back a sigh. Ace was not the only one feeling guilty for the Phoenix's condition. The last conversation he and Thatch had before the attack had been their argument and it was obvious the Fourth Division Commander blamed himself for not making up with his blond-haired brother beforehand. The whole situation was a huge mess, and Marco mentally cursed Pitch again for all that he had done.

Vista sighed loudly, drawing the Phoenix's attention. The swordsman rubbed his forehead before lowering his hand. "So. Just to summarize… Pitch is immortal. He's been going after our allies and stopping them before they can reach us. He may have done that on orders from the World Government. We don't know for sure if he was commanded to attack us specifically, but he is certainly working with the Marines."

"Yes." Tooth, the polite Fairy Spirit, confirmed. "Pitch is the one who told them about us and Jack." She gestured at the Guardians. "He also is likely the one who pushed for bounties for Jack and I."

"Which he did because these guys—" Vista continued and pointed at the three present Guardians. Jack refused to leave Ace's side when asked to come and looked ready to freeze anyone who tried to make him. "—are part of a group that fights Pitch. Ace is the same kind of creature as all of them—"

"Ace isn't a  _creature_." Thatch snapped before Marco could.

Vista held up his hands in a peaceful manner. "That isn't what I was saying. I was just searching for a word that meant… 'Not quite human'. Still, I apologize." He modified his statement. "Ace is a  _Spirit_ , like these three, Jack, and Pitch."

"How much of a threat are you to Pitch?" Izo interjected, looking at the Guardians.

North stroked his beard, adopting a thoughtful visage. "As we explained, people's belief in our 'center' gives us strength and power. We are stronger here than before because adults' belief can assist us, but Pitch is too. Other than our… trump card— which I will only show to a select few, so please do not ask— I'd say Jack and Ace are biggest threats to Pitch. They have most offensive power, and even Pitch will struggle against Nature."

"Is that why Pitch keeps gunning for Ace?" Thatch asked.

North shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. It could also be that he hurts Ace to hurt Jack."

"Jack is the main reason Pitch was stopped last time. Pitch found a way to depower us almost completely. Without Jack, we would have lost." Tooth revealed solemnly.

"Luckily we do not have to worry about a repeat of that incident." The Guardian of Wonder assured them all. "It is impossible for Pitch to use same tactics here—" He scowled. "—which means  _we_  cannot use those tactics on  _him_ either."

"So what do we do?" Haruta asked quietly.

The Twelfth Division Commander was still bandaged from his… interaction with Pitch. Marco could not call it a 'fight' even in his head, because the Nightmare King had swatted his brother away like a pesky fly without the short pirate even able to try to retaliate. Dark splotches stood out starkly below Haruta's eyes, and his every word and movement were stiff. It was obvious he was still sore— both physically and emotionally— about falling so quickly to the Nightmare King, but the Phoenix was just glad the blue-eyed Commander was alive.

Whitebeard's eyes settled on Garp, who had listened to it all with a neutral expression on his face. Marco would question his father's reasoning for allowing the Marine to be present at this meeting, but seeing as how it had little to do with actual planning and more to do with explaining things, he understood.

"Will any of this convince the Government to end their alliance with Pitch?" the Yonko asked.

The Fist shook his head, openly disgusted. "If Sengoku were still Fleet Admiral, this information may be enough to convince him to see Pitch as an enemy and mark him as such." Garp growled. "But that is not the case. Sakazuki will not believe this even if you showed footage of Pitch frolicking through a village and killing civilians. His pride— or the orders of his superiors— would prevent it.  _Especially_  if his superiors are what caused him to ally with Pitch in the first place. I have neither the rank—" His fists clenched. "—or the restraint to attempt to change his mind."

Whitebeard thought about his response for a long time. "Then I suppose the Marines' internal matters are not our problem."

Garp stood abruptly, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. "I've heard all I need to— and want to. I have no desire to hear what you plan to do next."

Marco blinked, realizing the Marine was exiting the meeting without being asked. He had all the information he wanted— primarily about his grandson's status— and had no desire to listen in on the Whitebeard Pirate's plot. The Phoenix was honestly surprised the man had interacted so much with pirates without incident or complaint, but he supposed exceptions to usual reactions could be made when family was involved.

Whitebeard's eyes softened slightly. "You're a good man, Garp."

"I don't need to hear that from you." The Marine said gruffly. "Just point me in the direction of that bastard and I'll be happy to help."

He walked out before the Yonko could respond.

It was Shanks who broke the silence that fell over them all, chuckling lowly. "D's are such a curious bunch, aren't they?"

"Agreed." Whitebeard said. He returned to the matter at hand. "The only question now is what we do next. Do any of you have suggestions?"

Nami raised her hand awkwardly, looking uncomfortable as everyone turned to her. She, Robin, and Sanji were the representatives of the Straw Hats in the meeting, knowing their Captain would not come even if he had nothing better to do, simply because he had little patience for such discussions. The navigator seemed a little intimidated by all the powerful figures staring at her, but she spoke clearly and without a tremor in her voice.

"Last we knew, Pitch's base was on a shadowy island. I can navigate us back there, but we have no way of knowing if he moved."

"Not only that, but there's little to no way to sneak into the area." Sanji added. "An ambush is almost impossible, and if Pitch even was still there, he'd be smart enough to put up traps for any invaders."

"So basically trying to attack him on his turf is a bad idea." Bunny summarized, crossing his furry arms over his chest.

"We could try to draw him out." Jiru suggested.

"We are  _not_  using Ace as bait!" Thatch said sharply.

The speedy Commander winced, waving his hands wildly in front of him. "I didn't say that. Dear Oda, you're snippy today."

"What about our territories?" Kingdew questioned before the chef could respond. "If Pitch has a vendetta against us, I'm betting he's going after islands protected by Oyaji."

One of the Allied Captains, Andre, cleared his throat. "Perhaps we Captains can help. We'll happily be guards for key islands while you focus on finding Pitch."

"Will taking out Pitch destroy his forces, yoi?" Marco asked the Guardians.

"No, but it will  _severely_  weaken them." Tooth mentioned after mulling it over. "Maybe even enough that natural light will kill the Fearlings and revert the Nightmares back into golden sand." When the listeners looked confused she explained. "Fearlings normally die in sunlight, but Pitch is powerful enough now to remove that weakness. And weakened Nightmares can be turned back into harmless dream sand by unafraid children back home. They're usually so much easier to destroy, but Pitch's power increase has made them much stronger."

"So removing Pitch from the picture is a top priority." Whitebeard said. "For now, we will gather more information to see if the Nightmare King is indeed attacking my territories. From there, we will decide whether to fight on multiple fronts or make a different plan."

"Yes, Oyaji." Many of those present agreed.

The meeting dispersed. Marco was one of the few to stay behind, remaining seated as others left. Thatch noticed and stayed with him, brow furrowed with concern. The Phoenix's attempted reassuring look came out as a grimace, and the chef was at his side in an instant.

Marco held up a hand. "Don't, yoi. There's nothing you can do to—" His breathing hitched as some sand was incinerated by his flames. "—h-help."

Thatch looked up at their Oyaji like he was seeking guidance, only to return his sorrowful eyes to Marco. "You should talk to Ace."

"I will." Marco promised. "I just don't want to stress him out any more than he already is."

Thatch winced. "…Sabo told me that Jack was so adamant about not coming to the meeting because Ace had a panic attack earlier. He locked himself in the bathroom again."

Marco felt another bolt of pain and clenched his teeth. "Is he still there, yoi?"

Thatch shrugged helplessly. The Phoenix stood, and the world tilted. He stumbled and the chef grabbed his arm, looping his limb around the blond pirate's shoulders in an attempt to keep him from falling.

"I'm f-fine." Marco stammered, putting a hand to his head. "I just got dizzy for a moment, yoi." He removed Thatch's hand from his arm and saw Whitebeard looking at him. "I'm fine." He repeated.

Thatch stared at him, not a hint of a smile on his face. A pained expression crossed his normally joyful features and for a moment the Phoenix thought his brother was going to cry.

"When I said I want you to talk to Ace, I didn't mean just to clear things up with him. I meant for you too. Ace can tell you what to expect. Maybe you can help each other." His voice gained a pleading edge.

"Maybe." Marco said noncommittedly. Then he sighed. "I'll look for him, okay?"

"Okay." Thatch agreed.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Law staggered out from the Sunny's lower deck, blinking rapidly in an attempt to make his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight outside. Instead of clearing, his vision blurred, and he emitted a huff of frustration. The Heart Pirate rubbed at his forehead and atop his hat, Baby Tooth gave a worried chirp.

"I'm alright." The surgeon said instantly. "Just a little tired."

Baby Tooth hummed sympathetically. Law had been busy since the battle, having offered his assistance in caring for the wounded. There were a lot of injured pirates to help, spread out amidst the Moby Dick's infirmary and the Straw Hats' own. Between being grilled about exactly what his power had done to the Whitebeard's First Division Commander, Law had little time to rest in the last thirty-odd hours. Having to use his powers so much had not helped his case, and the surgeon resolved to try to find a way to increase his stamina.

He really wanted to sleep, but probably still had things to do, so Law reluctantly trudged over the Sunny's deck, heading to the Moby Dick once more. He nodded to one of the Commanders— Jozu, maybe?— as he passed, and the man gave him a cordial wave in return. One thing that Pitch's attack had managed to do was lessen the tension between the pirate crews, though it had not vanished completely. Circumstances had forced the Moby Dick's medical staff to trust Chopper and Law, and their help with all the new patients had gained them the respect of at least Bay and some of the nurses.

Law's newfound popularity seemed more widespread than the reindeer's, much to his chagrin. He had a feeling that news of how he had stopped Marco the Phoenix from becoming a Fearling must have circulated, for many Whitebeard Pirates smiled at him or nodded as he passed. The surgeon did not exactly like the attention, but he was not one to complain about potential bonds to exploit.

He felt Baby Tooth snuggle into his hat, giving a small yawn, and had to repress one of his own. Law did not know why the little Fairy had decided to stay with him during all the procedures he conducted, having believed the blood and other things would cause her to flee, but she was oddly at ease even when facing unspeakable gore. Either she had nerves of steel— very likely— she was used to it— Law prayed that was not the case— or she simply wanted to stay with the surgeon— a moderately likely possibility. Law did not have the heart— or time— to try to make her leave, so she remained with him through it all.

"Hey, Law!"

The surgeon turned when his name was called, acknowledging Jack with a nod as the Winter Spirit landed beside him. A scan of the deck showed Ace was nearby with his younger brothers, watching them both. The fire-user hesitated and waved at him before being distracted by Luffy. The former Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates looked awful, with every inch of his body screaming 'stressed'. Dark shadows stood out beneath his eyes, his movements were lethargic, and he trembled so noticeably Law could see it from a distance.

Just looking at him made the surgeon want to prescribe him a series of medications to help him calm down and sleep, but it was not his place to be involved. Not to mention that sleep would not help Ace. Law's own tiredness seemed inconsequential when he thought about how long the fire-user must have been awake for. Jack distracted him before he could think more about it.

"There you are." The Winter Spirit said cheerfully. "Where've you been hiding?" He slung his arm around Law's shoulders.

The surgeon considered shoving him away but refrained.  _He isn't as irritating as Luffy-ya._  "I wasn't hiding. I was helping the injured."

Jack's expression clouded before immediately returning to a happier look. "Oh. That makes sense. I just wanted to tell you Tooth is here."

Law stared at him, confused. Atop his hat, Baby Tooth gave a squeal. She flew off her perch and grabbed the surgeon's finger, pulling insistently as she chattered away. The Heart Pirate stared at her, not moving, and Baby Tooth pouted. She landed in his palm, pointing ahead excitedly, and continued to chirp and squeak.

Jack laughed. "Short kinda-explanation: Tooth is basically Baby Tooth's mom."

Baby Tooth gave a sharp series of chirps, leaving Law's hand to fly in the ice-user's face.

The Winter Spirit held his hands up, backing away a step. "Hey,  _hey_. Chill out. I know it's more complicated than that. Let's not confuse him, yeah?"

The little Fairy huffed and pulled at Law's thumb. The surgeon opened his mouth to say she could go find her… mom without him, only to waver when he met hopeful mismatched eyes.

_I've gone soft_ , he thought broodingly.

"Where is she?" he asked Jack.

The Winter Spirit made to respond, only for a feminine gasp to sound over the usual background noise of the crew as they worked.

"I found you!"

A Fairy that was like a large version of Baby Tooth— with more humanoid facial features and pink eyes— soared over to Law, landing in front of him much like Jack had. Baby Tooth gave another squeal and flew into her, hugging Tooth and chattering nonstop. The surgeon's lips twitched as Baby Tooth whizzed around her 'mom's' head like a hummingbird on a sugar high, quickly wearing herself out and soon running out of breath. The Fairy let her little one settle in her palms, beaming.

"Oh. I'm so happy you're okay, Baby Tooth." she said. "I was so worried."

The little Fairy fluttered up to nuzzle her mother's cheek, still speaking.

"Yes, I know you're a strong girl but you can't just vanish like that." Tooth scolded lightly. "What if Pitch had seen you? Or you appeared over an ocean or volcano? You could have gotten hurt."

Baby Tooth looked at her foot, swinging it back in forth in a rather sheepish manner. Law watched the exchange in open bewilderment, reminded of the few times he had seen a parent scold their daughter for sneaking out. He saw Jack cover his mouth in an attempt to hold back his snickers, and the ice-user turned away from him, whistling innocently. The surgeon scowled, having half a mind to attach the Winter Spirit's head to a barrel and see how funny he found  _that_  when Tooth grabbed his hands. Law balked, nearly tearing his fingers from hers, but the Fairy kept her hold, smiling at him.

"Thank you for watching out for her." Tooth said, eyes shining with genuine gratefulness.

"I– I didn't…" Law began, then sighed. "No problem."

Baby Tooth chattered happily, pulling at the larger Fairy's fingers.

Tooth listened, expression growing curious, and a gentle look crossed her face. "Oh really?"

She glanced at Law once more, making him feel distinctly uncomfortable. It was not the look itself that made him feel the strange urge to retreat, but the emotion behind them. Tooth's eyes were soft and kind as they looked at him, almost motherly, as if she were looking into his soul and found saw someone of trust. Law did not know how to feel about that and cleared his throat awkwardly, experiencing the sensation of being out of his depth but not exactly disliking it.

"I don't know what she's telling you, but I assure you it's all false." He said blandly.

Tooth's forehead crinkled, and her feathers seemed to quiver with amusement. "So you didn't save her from Pitch? And let her stay with you? And comfort her when she was scared?" Her tone was gently teasing.

Law was about to deny it when Baby Tooth returned to him, landing on his hat. He sighed. "…Maybe I did."

Tooth chuckled again and glanced at Jack before leaning closer. "She calls you 'Big Brother' you know." she said softly.

The part of Law that remained functional had to wonder if she was trolling him like Jack would. The rest of him froze up, caught between feeling bewildered, touched …and maybe a little upset. The surgeon reached up and stroked Baby Tooth's head with his finger, listening to her happy chirps. Memories of Flevance threatened to force their way into his waking thoughts but he pushed them back.

"I…" He swallowed in an attempt to remove the strain in his voice. "I don't think I deserve that title."

Tooth studied him, pink eyes going wide before they filled with compassion. "I think you do." She murmured, before looking to her little Fairy. "Do you want to stay with Law for now?"

Baby Tooth nodded emphatically.

"Okay. Do you mind?" Tooth asked Law.

"Not at all, Tooth-ya." The surgeon said before he could stop himself.

Tooth gave him another, genuine grin and patted his shoulder before retreating. Law noticed she did not look Ace's way, and the fire-user's wary expression as he watched her fly by said that was a good decision on her part. The black-haired Spirit met Law's eyes for a moment and he smiled, just the smallest lifting of his lips. The surgeon wondered what he was thinking.

He was swiftly distracted from that topic by Baby Tooth, climbed onto the brim of his hat and peered over it, smiling at him. Law smirked back, even as his earlier exhaustion returned. He noticed Jack still watching and glowered.

" _What?_ " he snapped.

"Nothing." The Winter Spirit said innocently.

Jack returned to his brothers in time for Luffy to catapult into him. Law watched the ice-user swear vengeance as he was knocked to the deck, leaping up and tussling with his laughing youngest brother, and rolled his eyes. He made to head below deck but Baby Tooth's musical laughter gave him pause. The surgeon hesitated and settled near the railing, watching the two brothers fight. He did not particularly care what Straw Hat got up to, but Baby Tooth was giggling at the pirate's misfortune so Law may as well indulge her.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Nighttime was so much quieter on the Moby Dick. Luffy and Sabo were back on the Sunny, almost everyone was asleep, and the few who stayed awake at this hour were not the types to make much noise— and not only due to the threat of what would be done to them if they woke the others. It was peaceful, and while peaceful was good and nice it was also not.

Peace and quiet gave Ace time to think, minus the relaxation such thinking would usually bring. The fire-user could not relax. Not when he was so tired. He did not want to risk falling asleep. The Summer Spirit moved to pinch his arm for the twentieth time, hoping the pain would make him more alert, only for Jack to grab his wrist.

"No, Ace." The Winter Spirit said. "You already have bruises."

The fire-user looked guiltily at the small discolorations on his arms and covered them with his hands. During his breakdown in the bathroom, his tactic for trying to stay conscious had left marks behind. Ace had not meant for it to, but apparently he had been a little rough when trying to keep himself awake. Jack had not been pleased with his method, though he had understood. That had not stopped him from trying to prevent Ace from pinching his skin and leaving behind more purplish contusions.

He needed something to keep him busy and more focused, but the few things available were doing nothing to help his stress levels. At least the extreme strain was keeping him more alert— if constantly anxious— so that was a good thing, right?

The matter at hand was that a few of the people awake at night were those that Ace really should go talk to. They were awake, he was awake, there would be little interference from others… surely it would be better to try now? It was almost midnight, but that would not matter to Marco or the Guardians. According to Jack, they would be happy to see Ace.

Except Ace could not convince himself to leave the sanctuary of his room.

_I can do this._

_I can do this._

_I can do this._

… _I can't do this._

Jack and Stefan were the only witnesses of his struggle at the moment. Ace was glad. Even with all his slip ups, he still was not comfortable with showing the depth of his illness in front of Sabo and Luffy. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be better. He was—

He was going to be sick.

Ace swallowed repeatedly in an attempt to dismiss his growing nausea, putting a hand over his mouth and trying not to gag. Jack watched him solemnly; staff balanced over his knees, but did not approach to comfort the Summer Spirit just yet. Ace was appreciative that he did not. The Winter Spirit did not deserve to get puked on. The fire-user eventually settled with his head between his knees, trying to breathe evenly.

"You don't have to push yourself like this, Ace." Jack told him when he saw Ace was not about to lose his lunch. "It's only been a day."

The Summer Spirit blindly grabbed his notebook.  _"I know."_  He wrote.  _"But there's no reason for me to delay."_

"Yes there is." Jack said patiently. "You're not comfortable with meeting the Guardians or talking to Marco right yet." He raised an eyebrow. "Unless nearly hurling is your standard reaction to people, I think something's wrong and you should take it easy."

Ace's response was to return his curled up position. His body had evidently decided that tremors and stomachaches were no longer severe enough to convey that he was freaking out, so it had decided losing the little food he had consumed due to stress was the next best thing. The fire-user had heard that vomiting because of anxiety happened, but thought the world did not hate him enough for it to happen to him repeatedly. He recalled his previous runs to the bathroom and pressed his hand back to his mouth, futilely rubbing his throat as if that would keep anything from coming up.

Ace could feel the stress overwhelming him again and realized that no amount of breathing was going to stop his stomach from rebelling. He bolted out of his room and made it to the bathroom, slamming the door in Jack's face to prevent his brother from seeing him expel the remnants of his lunch from earlier.

After a few minutes of heaving, Ace's body calmed enough that he stopped needing to lean over the sink. He rinsed his mouth and the basin and then settled against the door. He leaned his head against it and wincing as his throat burned. On the other side of the thin piece of wood, Jack sighed.

"We have to stop meeting like this." The Guardian said, his saddened tone at odds with his joking words. "…Are you okay?"

" _I'm fine. Give me a sec."_  Ace wrote and shoved the notebook under the door.

Jack gave it back a moment later. "Alright. Is the door unlocked? The shipwrights will be mad if I break it down."

Ace glanced at the mechanism and wrote.  _"It's unlocked. Please don't come in. I don't want you to see this."_

"Okay." Jack agreed readily.

The Winter Spirit did not say anything else, listening for any sounds of distress from the Summer Spirit. Ace laid down on the floor on his side, pressing his cheek to the cold tile. He frowned as something pressed against his leg and blinked, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out three familiar spheres, one shockingly different than the others.

Disregarding the relatively normal globes, Ace stared at the night-like ball in wonder, stress momentarily forgotten. The sphere was magical and awe-inspiring, like the Summer Spirit was holding a galaxy in his palm. He gazed at it, transfixed, and slowly realized that the spheres were three of North's Snow Globes. Jack had explained what the glass balls they had been chasing were shortly after Ace's last freak out, giving details on what they did and assuring the fire-user that none of them had shattered when he had collided with North.

_I must have forgotten to give the ones in my pocket back to him. That starry one looks special. I should return them._

Insides twisting into knots, Ace put the spheres back in his pocket and promptly returned to the sink. Having removed all the food in his stomach he began to dry heave and silently begged whoever was listening that he would not start spewing stomach acid.

_Doesn't really matter. My throat is already messed up. Just like the rest of me._

And that was the problem, wasn't it? That was why he was too afraid to speak to Marco. That was why he was too scared to meet the Guardians. That was why he got so anxious that his body could not handle it anymore and turned against him.

He was afraid, and his fear was smothering him.

Tooth's interaction with Law and Baby Tooth had helped alleviate his worries a little bit, but it was not enough. The Fairy seemed to be a kind soul. Ace had internally panicked when she went onto the deck, but the Guardian of Memories had ignored his presence, focused completely on her Mini Fairy and the surgeon. She looked kind, and gentle, and friendly, but Ace could not disassociate the real Tooth with the one that haunted his dreams and grew to despise him.

Ace could not talk to her. He could not talk to any of the Guardians. Not while he associated them with the future, and the fact that he would have to leave for Earth soon. Not when he knew that meeting them risked revealing his insecurities and— even worse— his rotten core. He was a damaged mess. He was a trouble magnet. He just caused people pain. Why would anyone want to be near someone like that?

Ace returned to the floor, feeling exhausted and feverish. He felt the sand moving again, noticeable for the first time in a while, and bit his lip in an attempt to stop himself from crying or throwing up more. He could sense it inside him, slithering like snakes made of cold fragments of metal. Crawling, shoving, ripping, pushing,  _hurting_ —

"How are you doing in there?" Jack asked as it grew quiet. "You sound awful. Do you need anything? Water? Does water help or make it worse…?" The last words were muttered in a low, frustrated tone as the Winter Spirit failed to recall the details.

Ace felt another surge of guilt, hating that he was making the Guardian worry. _"I'm sorry you had to listen to that."_

He pushed the apology under the door. There was a long moment of silence, the quiet so complete that Ace could hear the distant snores of a few slumbering pirates. Finally, the Guardian of Fun spoke.

"Are you—? Are you seriously  _apologizing_  for being sick?" Jack demanded.

The Summer Spirit felt a rush of shame.  _"I'm not sick."_  Ace wrote shakily.  _"My body is just overreacting again."_

The Winter Spirit read the words and made a small, frustrated sound. The door opened, nearly sending Ace falling to the floor, and Jack gently pushed him back inside the bathroom, shutting the door neatly behind him. He sat next to the fire-user on the floor, hugging him gently from the side before releasing him.

"Ace, you're so stressed out that you're  _puking_." Jack emphasized. "You can't help it. You can't stop it. And you  _don't_ need to apologize for it."

" _But it's stupid."_  Ace protested.  _"I'm supposed to be stronger than this."_

Jack set his staff on the floor and bent his knees, lacing his fingers together and propping his head on them. "What is 'stronger' to you?" he questioned.

" _Not puking because I have to talk to someone."_ Ace wrote miserably.  _"Not being so scared of people I shouldn't be that the mere thought of seeing them makes me—"_

He was forced to abandon his notebook as he raced back to the sink. When he returned, Jack had a small grimace on his face, but he did not recoil when Ace sat beside him again. The Winter Spirit laid a wonderfully cold hand on his forehead, and the fire-user selfishly gripped it to keep it there. Jack pulled his hand away and blew into his palm, making ice. He dropped the cubes into Ace's hand and the Summer Spirit gratefully put them to his hot forehead and cheeks.

"Your reactions aren't stupid." Jack said bluntly. "Your fears aren't either. You were 'looping' through nightmares for decades, maybe centuries. That isn't something you can just forget."

" _But there's_ _ **no reason**_ _for me to feel like this."_ Ace underlined 'no reason' multiple times.

Jack set the notebook on the tile, a frown pulling at his lips. "'Reasons' don't matter. Fear is illogical, but that does not stop it from affecting you. The battle being just like lots of your nightmares didn't help either, I'm betting. You're stressed, tired, and overwhelmed, and went through things I can't imagine, but you're a lot stronger than I'd ever be because you're still standing anyway."

The Winter Spirit gently ruffled Ace's hair, peering into his eyes. "You don't have to meet with the Guardians and go see Marco if you're not ready. I know words won't make you believe it, but you  _don't_  have to do more. You're already doing your best, and that's enough. Just… think about it, okay?"

" _I'll try."_  Ace scribed.

He could not promise more, as much as he wished he could. His best was not nearly enough, but he had little more that he could give. The thought hurt, but as he sat with Jack, trying not to let his doubts and panic drown him, Ace looked at the Guardian and saw one person who maybe did not hate or pity him for what he was. Maybe with Jack he could do better. Maybe with the Winter Spirit he could try, or at least  _try_  to try.

Maybe tomorrow would not be so bad.

Ace could hope, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I won't be able to update tomorrow so here's the chapter a bit early.


	35. Golden Moonlight

Ace tried. He did his best. He was not panicking, or moping, or sitting in a corner and feeling guilty for everything. It did not feel good enough. It was not good enough.  _He_  was never good enough. Why couldn't he do this, why couldn't he get better, why did his chest still hurt, why did he have to be so bloody sensitive about every damn thing—?

A familiar cold hand squeezed his and Ace became aware of the outside world once more. He glanced around self-consciously at the hallway that was empty except for himself, Jack, and Stefan, relaxing when he saw no one else was around to witness his latest freak out. The Summer Spirit looked at the ball in his palm in confusion and looked to the dog, who sat down and nudged him. Right. Ace was attempting to play with Stefan to take his mind off things and alleviate his guilt for ignoring the canine earlier.

The fire-user threw the ball, watching the dog happily chase after it, and forced himself not to lean his head against the wall behind him and Jack. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay coherent, his combination of stress and exhaustion tearing at his consciousness and weakening his body so that each of his muscles felt like they were made of lead. He still felt rather feverish as well, which was ridiculous because he was a Fire Spirit. He did not get sick like that.

 _It's been a really long time since I slept though_ , Ace thought foggily as he accepted the ball back from Stefan and tossed it again.  _I can't sleep. It'll make me even more dama_ _—_ _paranoid. Not mention Pitch will…_  He cut off that line of thought. _Maybe I should try coffee or something? Anti-sleep pills? Are those a thing…?_

Stefan returned, dropping his prize in the fire-user's lap. Ace went to throw the ball, only for his arm to go limp at his side. His breathing slowed and his eyelids fluttered, snapping open when Stefan prodded his hand. The Summer Spirit petted the dog weakly and threw the toy. Stefan hesitated a moment before diving after it. Ace laid his head against the wall behind him.

_What am I going to do?_

Footsteps interrupted his train of thought, and Ace looked towards the source on instinct. His exhaustion was brushed aside by panic when he saw who was coming, but Marco spotted him before he could hide or flee. The Phoenix dithered for a moment, as if he were uncertain, then hurried towards the two Spirits.

"Want me to distract him?" Jack asked quietly.

Ace stared at him vacantly, unable to comprehend his offer as his body locked and his thoughts turned to static. Marco was coming. Why was he here? Did he seek them out? Didn't he hate Ace? Was Marco going to yell at him? OhMannyhewasrightthere _ohno—_

He sensed more than saw Jack move between the Phoenix and himself, his vision growing murky. The blond-haired pirate halted a few paces away, further than the expected norm, and Ace was glad to note that he was nowhere within reaching distance. Not that a couple feet would stop Marco if he went to grab the fire-user but still… The Summer Spirit saw a hint of black and tan in his peripheral vision and ducked his head lower, allowing his hat and hair to cover parts of his face.

_My fault. Calm down. It's fine I'm fine_ _**everything'sfine** _ _—_

"Should I come back later, yoi?"

The words were spoken lowly and were likely not meant for Ace's ears, but he still heard them. The tone used did not  _seem_  to be angry. Instead Marco sounded sad. Ace had to be to blame. Again. Did Marco feel as awful about Ace avoiding him as the fire-user felt for doing so? That must be it. Ace was being a self-absorbed idiot again, wasn't he?

The Summer Spirit reached out and gripped Jack's sleeve, pulling it to the side. The Guardian resisted for a moment before stepping aside and returning to his place next to Ace. The fire-user's stomach was in knots again and his head ached like a sledgehammer was being swung into it, but he could not let Marco leave like this. He should see what the Phoenix wanted and get it over with.

Marco hesitated again and sat in front of Ace. The fire-user stared at his knees like they were the most interesting thing in the world, avoiding looking at the blond-haired pirate's greenish eyes.

"I just wanted to apologize." Marco said softly.

Ace briefly looked up, lost his nerve, and went back to studying his knees.  _I'm the one who should be apologizing, not you._

"I was angry at you for keeping secrets and doing the operation without telling me, but my anger was irrational and not fair to you." The Phoenix continued. "You were not the only party involved, yet you were the one I blamed. I  _don't_  blame you anymore." He hurried to add when Ace hunched a little more. "Not for  _anything_. Not for the operation, being a Spirit, or my injuries, okay? It's not your fault, yoi."

"That's what I've been telling him." Jack said, his tone oddly relieved. "You shouldn't feel guilty because of all this, kiddo."

Ace's anxiety dwindled a little as he realized Marco was not here to yell at him, though he could not discard the guilt that still remained.  _He_  was the reason Marco got hurt. The Phoenix had been injured saving  _him_. Not only that, but him being a Spirit was the reason for a whole lot of their problems, so how could either of them fool themselves into thinking he was not responsible? He knew saying that would only cause them to spew more useless reassurances so instead he changed the subject, uncomfortable with the current topic.

" _How are you doing? Are you tired? Is the sand hurting you?"_

If Marco was displeased with Ace's blatant evasion, he did not show it. "I'm okay. I'm not tired yet, yoi. The sand isn't…" He paused and altered his words. "What does the sand feel like to you? Your body isn't fighting it like mine, so I'd like to compare if you don't mind."

 _What does he mean by my body not 'fighting' the sand?_  Ace thought uncomfortably.  _Does he think I'm_ _ **letting**_ _—? Stop it. We already went through this. Marco wasn't implying anything, idiot. He must want to know what to expect._ The fire-user's hurt was replaced by a feeling of deep shame.  _I should have talked to him sooner. I panicked and avoided him over nothing._

" _The sand doesn't hurt me much unless it starts moving really fast."_  He wrote, choosing each word carefully.  _"That usually only happens when I'm scared. I always feel it though. It's like something cold and sharp is crawling under my skin. At the worst times it seems like it's wrapping around my organs and tearing at them, but according to Bay it's not actually damaging them."_

The fire-user's hand trembled as he described the sensation. He became acutely aware of the poison in his flesh once more and had to resist the urge to gag. Ace could sense every single line of sand under his skin and mentally shuddered, struggling not to reach up and attempt to claw the vile substance out. Marco studied his face, some of the tension leaving his own.

"So you're not in constant pain then?" he asked.

Ace shook his head.

The stiffness in Marco's shoulders faded. "I'm glad."

There was a loud, distant crash. Soon after, enraged shouts started up, with a majority of the shrieks sounding distinctly female. The three looked in the direction of the noises and Jack sniggered.

"Sounds like Luffy is up."

"Isn't he on the Thousand Sunny?" Marco questioned dryly.

"Yup." The Guardian replied, letting loose another laugh. "He must have woken his crew. Poor souls. I don't even know if it's past dawn yet."

"It is, yoi." Marco said. He stood up and offered a hand to Ace. "I suppose we should go meet your brother before he wakes our ship too."

Ace took the hand and let the Phoenix pull him to his feet. His heart was still beating too quickly and his skin tingled with nerves, but he felt a little better since Marco  _did not hate him_. He could hardly believe it. In the back of his mind he had hoped the Phoenix would not blame and despise him, but so many nightmares had ended up with that happening in the past that Ace could not help but expect the worst from everything.

He felt embarrassed that he had anxiety attacks over nothing, his fear and guilt towards Marco being replaced by shame and guilt that he had hidden from the Phoenix because he was a self-conscious idiot. Maybe it would be the same with the Guardians and other people? Maybe they wouldn't hate him as well? Maybe he should go and tal—

Ace's vision blurred and he winced as his heart seemed to bang against his ribs, his uneasiness spiking once more.  _I can't do it. I still can't meet them. I'm so_ _ **stupid**_ _…_

The fire-user vaguely followed Jack and Marco onto the Thousand Sunny, lost in thought, and was thus unprepared when a body rushed towards him. Ace dodged the person while they gave a yelp and did what could be only described as a botched pirouette in an attempt to avoid slamming into the Summer Spirit. Ace stayed on his feet while the pirate— Usopp— fell onto his butt. The fire-user hurried to the fallen sniper's side, helping him up.

Usopp's cheeks were bright pink. "Oops. Sorry about that, Ace. I wasn't watching where I was going."

Ace made himself smile, waving vaguely to convey it was fine. He must have done a good job because the sniper's embarrassment faded.

Usopp chuckled ruefully. "Were you heading over to the Sunny? Luffy's still asleep. It wasn't him who woke everyone up today. It was me. Can you believe it?"

Ace tipped his head curiously.

The sniper gave another awkward laugh. "I'm… doing stuff with my dad today. Yasopp. He's on Red Hair Shanks' crew. We're going shooting on the island together."

Ace blinked in surprise. Then his smile grew genuine.

Usopp noticed. "Yeah. It's pretty cool." It was then that Ace spotted the excitement shining in his eyes. "I finally get to show him what I can do, you know? I can show him how strong I've become…" He trailed off, abruptly self-conscious. "I mean, not that you care haha. I'm sure you want to see your brothers after…" He stilled, more uncertainty entering his gaze. "You know what? Maybe I should go with you. Now that I think about it my dad probably has better things to do than spend time with me. He's part of a Yonko's crew and they're going to be busy planning for Pitch and I'm just me so he's probably doing cool things and I shouldn't get in the way of that—"

Ace observed as the sniper began to ramble on and on about fathers and pirates and how he definitely was not nervous or anything because he was 'God Usopp' and he never got scared, voice lowering to a strained mumble that the fire-user could barely decipher. The Summer Spirit felt a frown tugging at his lips as he watched the Straw Hat Pirate grow more and more nervous and despondent. Was that was Ace looked like to others when he tried to muster the courage to speak with the Gu— his stomach seemed to do a flip— …certain people?

Usopp cut off his mumbling and nodded jerkily, turning back towards the lower deck. "Yeah, I'm going to go help you find Luffy. Good idea. I don't need to meet Dad yet, haha. I'm sure he—"

The sniper squeaked as Ace grabbed his arm, dragging him off the Sunny and towards the Red Force. A strange— if subdued— elation had filled him at the thought of the Straw Hat Pirate spending time with his family member, though he did not understand why. Ace himself was still nervous around Oyaji, and Roger was not his dad, so maybe he was just glad someone could look forward to seeing their father.

Or maybe it was simply the pure joy in Usopp's expression when he first talked about Yasopp. He was genuinely happy and enthusiastic to see his dad, and it made Ace feel the need to make sure that meeting happened. He spotted the Red Hair sniper waiting on the ship and released Usopp, shoving him in the pirate's direction. The Straw Hat sniper stumbled a little and eyed his father warily but chuckled regardless.

"Is that a hint?" he asked weakly.

Ace made a shooing motion at him.

"Okay, I'm going." Usopp took a breath and straightened his shoulders. He stepped towards his father and paused, looking at the fire-user. "You're a good guy, Ace."

The Straw Hat sniper left before Ace could react. The fire-user stood alone on the deck for a moment and shook his head, surroundings turning grey as his thoughts drifted. After what could have been seconds or hours he snapped back into his body, breathing sharp and uneven. He glanced around awkwardly but still did not move, a stray memory prodding at the edge of his thoughts.

_Was I supposed to do something?_

"Ace!" The fire-user looked up when his name was called, surprised to see Shanks himself walking towards him. The Yonko halted before the Summer Spirit, a welcoming grin on his face. "Hey. What are you doing out here all alone?"

" _ **Aren't you supposed to be with your babysitters?"**_

Ace mentally winced as he realized what Shanks must be implying. His good mood faded, his doubts rushed back, and he struggled not to show them to the powerful pirate. What was he doing, just waltzing onto the Yonko's ship without permission?

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Shanks laid a hand on his shoulder, making Ace twitch and back out of reach. The red-haired pirate let his arm drop harmlessly to his side.

"Relax, kid." The Yonko said. "I'm glad you're here. I've been meaning to talk with you. How about you come with me for a chat?"

 _What did I do to make him mad?_  was Ace's first reaction. He studied Shanks face for a moment, not spotting any anger or ire.  _He doesn't_ _ **look**_ _mad… Then what does he want with me?_

The fire-user nodded before he could give in to his instincts and hastily retreat. That would be rude, and Shanks deserved better than that. Particularly considering Ace was on his ship at the moment.

The Yonko nodded and looked at one of the lingering Red Hair Pirates. "Hey, Rockstar! Tell Marco that Ace is with me, okay? I don't want his brothers tearing apart the island looking for him."

The pirate gave a wave of acknowledgement and Ace found himself being led below deck. He either got caught up in his definitely-not-panicking thoughts or zoned out again because when he next noticed his surroundings, he was in a room. The fire-user blinked in confusion and rubbed at his forehead, sighing.

 _At least I haven't fallen asleep yet_ , he thought, trying to be optimistic.

He observed his surroundings more carefully, taking in the room. It looked comfortable enough, with a carpet, a few chairs, and a small table in the center. Light shone easily through the windows along one side, and a large map was pinned up behind the wooden desk shoved over towards the back of the space. Ace guessed he was in Shanks' cabin, and felt both humbled and awkward that the Yonko had let him come here.

"Have a seat." Shanks said, gesturing at a chair and sitting in another one. "Do you want anything? Tea? Water? James will murder me if I try to give you booze…"

Ace politely declined with a shake of his head. He still felt nauseous and did not want to risk throwing up in front of the Yonko because that would be the absolute worst thing ever. He chose the spot opposite Shanks, placing his hands in his lap and trying not to fidget. He felt… uncomfortable, to say the least. He remembered meeting Shanks before going off to fight Whitebeard years ago, but the conversation was a blurry mess in his memories. He clearly recalled that he thanked the man for saving Luffy, but any other topics were far out of reach.

The Summer Spirit bit his lip.  _Wait… Didn't Marco say Shanks was the one who found me and brought me to the Moby Dick?_

If that was the case, the Yonko was the reason he was still alive. That knowledge helped Ace let go of some of his tension, his posture relaxing the slightest bit. He took out his notebook and flipped to a new page.

" _Thank you for saving my life."_  He wrote.

_Please let me be remembering it right…_

"You're welcome." Shanks said, relieving his fears. "You're a good kid. I'm glad I found you."

Ace smiled gratefully, even as his thoughts lingered on the Yonko's possible motives for bringing him here.  _If Shanks wanted to talk with anyone, it should be Luffy._ The Summer Spirit tried to think of a way to tactfully ask about his brother before giving up.  _"Have you seen Luffy yet?"_

"Nope." The Yonko chuckled ruefully. "Haven't you noticed? Your little brother has taken to diving into side rooms and closets whenever I approach."

Ace frowned, thinking over the past couple days, and felt his lips twitch when he recalled Luffy randomly deciding to rocket into a supply closet with a wild look in his eyes.  _"So that's why he was doing that. I thought he was admiring the cleaning supplies."_

Shanks laughed at his joke or maybe the dry look on Ace's face as he wrote, and shook his head fondly. "I think the kid just doesn't want to see me just yet."

 _Oh right, his promise,_  Ace thought.  _Luffy is supposed to give Shanks the straw hat back when he's become a great pirate, right? Wasn't that it? But that shouldn't stop him from seeing Shanks…_

" _Are you going to wait for him to come to you?"_ he asked curiously.

"That's the plan." Shanks admitted. "I'm sure he'll rocket into me eventually."

The Summer Spirit pictured his brother literally throwing himself at the Yonko to hug him and smiled.  _"Most likely he'll miss and fly into the ocean."_ Ace wrote fondly.  _"Luffy's become a lot more skilled but just so happens to have terrible luck."_

"As long as he doesn't take me with him." Shanks said in a mock-lofty tone. "I'm a Yonko. It'll be bad for my reputation if I get knocked into the sea by an Anchor like him."

Ace sniggered, easily able to conjure such a happenstance in his mind. He felt strangely light, and realized most of the tension in his body had eased. There was a slight ache in his muscles from the almost constant stress that had been placed upon them, but the fire-user felt calmer than he had in a while. He bit his lip, not wanting to shift the subject away from his little brother, but unwilling to waste the Yonko's time with idle chit chat either.

Shanks seemed to sense his confliction. "You must be wondering why I wished to speak with you. I admit that I do have an ulterior motive for bringing you here."

Ace wished he had accepted a drink so he could hold it and hide his trembling hands. He clenched them together to try to smother the shakes.

"Calm down, kid." Shanks soothed him. "I swear it's nothing bad. I just wanted to see how you're holding up. I've noticed the… tension on your ship."

Ace winced and ducked his head so the brim of his hat hid his eyes.

"I also heard about the things Pitch said to try to make your crew mistrust you." Shanks pushed onward. "I for one know it's a load of bullshit."

Ace lifted his head, peering at the Yonko. The red-haired pirate looked stern, fierce, and maybe a little sad.

"I don't know you as well as I probably should." Shanks admitted lowly. "But I know you enough to say that choosing to avoid your crew isn't a decision you made lightly. I know how Spirits work, and until Pitch showed up, there was little chance that the Whitebeards would even be able to see you. Trying to make them would only hurt you, and if you somehow succeeded, it may have hurt them. That was one of your reasons, right? You knew you'd have to leave for Earth one day to serve Tsar Lunar?"

Ace nodded immediately. Then his muscles locked, his tension returning as he registered the Yonko's words. He stood up, backing away slowly as terror took over his mind. Knowing about Pitch was expected. Guessing Ace's motives was understandable. But how in Manny's name could Shanks know about  _Earth_ and _Manny's real name_? It was impossible unless someone told him, and there was little reason for that, right?

_Ohnononononono. When did I fall asleep? Shit! I need to get out of here._

The Yonko blocked the door before Ace could reach it and he stumbled backwards, deeper into the room. Shanks followed him, hand raised to chest level, and his expression twisted with— false?— concern.

"Damn it. That's not how I wanted to…" He muttered lowly. Then he raised his voice. "You're awake, Ace. This is real. Just let me explain."

Ace wanted to believe him. Shanks' eyes showed no deception, but such things could be easily hidden in nightmares. His paranoia begged him to flee but he knew running never worked in these dreams. So instead he sat heavily in his chair, his anxiety rushing back. He nearly bolted again when Shanks shut and locked the door.

The Yonko noticed his expression and sighed. "Damn it. I meant to guide the conversation into the topic but I guessed I messed that up, huh?" He returned to his chair, leaning forward and never looking away from Ace's face. "Look. I know all about Spirits. I know about the Man in the Moon. Hell, I even know a little more than most about Pitch. I brought you here so I could tell you a bit about them… and about your father too, I guess."

Ace wondered what Whitebeard could have to do with any of that, only to realize Shanks was not speaking about his Oyaji. He felt the urge to gag again and resisted, determined not to have such a weak reaction because of  _that man_. A memory struck him, and suddenly everything made perfect sense. Red Hair Shanks used to be a part of Gol D. Roger's crew. Ace was the Pirate King's child. Of course Shanks would want to speak with him about his birth father. The fire-user could not stop the disgusted snarl that crossed his face at the thought.

Shanks sighed. "I'm sorry, kid." He continued before Ace could try to respond. "I know the stories you've probably been told about my Captain. You must hate him for causing you so much grief."

Ace stared at him, unblinking.

The Yonko exhaled slowly. "Your father was a man who made many enemies. He was ruthless, stubborn, and outright cruel at times. But he could also be a good man. If he wasn't…" He hesitated before continuing. "…I don't think any of us would have reached Tsar Lunar."

Despite himself, Ace felt his curiosity grow.

Shanks spotted the slight change in his mood and smiled openly. "Would you like to hear how I met the Man in the Moon?"

ROTGOPROTGOP

_The pool was starlight. It was as if someone had taken a piece of the night's sky and placed it in the earth, turning the water a dark blue and filling it with stars. Shanks stared at the pool in wonder and looked up, certain that night had fallen when he was not looking. His eyes spotted the clear blue atmosphere and he let his gaze return to the mesmerizing pool, brow furrowing._

_A chuckle startled him and he spun, stepping backwards on instinct and thus treading on Buggy's toes. The clown howled and jumped around on one foot, cursing._

" _Shanks, you flashy idiot! That_ _ **hurt**_ _!"_

_Shanks shot his fellow cabin boy an apologetic smile. "Sorry."_

"' _Sorry'?!" Buggy shrieked. "That's all you have to say you—"_

_The laughter came again and the two teens sheepishly remembered their audience. The older Roger Pirates continued to snigger at their youngest members' antics, with their Captain's grin the largest of them all. Rayleigh strode over to the cabin boys, placing a hand on both of their backs. The two twitched, expecting a whack to the backs of their heads for arguing— again— but the First Mate merely sighed and shook his head._

" _If you two are going to argue like this, you can go back to the ship." He said sternly._

" _Don't be like that, Ray." Roger came to the cabin boys' defenses. "They traveled all this way with us. Let them see the end of the journey."_

_Buggy looked at the starlight-filled pool and huffed, crossing his arms. "Don't tell me we came here just to see this flashy thing." He muttered, unimpressed._

_Roger blinked at him. "Now, now. Do you really think I'd sail for months just to show you a pretty lake?"_

" _Yes." Shanks and Buggy echoed, then glowered as they realized they copied each other. The red-haired teen's scowl transformed into a grin while the blue-haired clown huffed._

_Roger seemed to be seriously considering their response. "I wouldn't do that." He protested almost childishly._

" _Yes, you would." Rayleigh informed him._

" _Yeah, I would." Their Captain admitted. "But that's beside the point! In case you couldn't tell, this is no normal pool." His voice rose dramatically. "It's a portal to another world."_

_He said it so casually that Shanks nearly missed the meaning of his words. Buggy's startled exclamation was soon followed by his own embarrassing squeak, and again the adults laughed at the teens' bewildered expressions._

" _Another world?" Buggy spluttered. "But that's impossible!"_

" _Are you really going to say something is impossible after everything we've seen?" Shanks asked rather sarcastically._

_The blue-haired cabin boy noticed his tone. "Why you—"_

_Rayleigh narrowed his eyes at the two and they stiffened, suddenly unwilling to continue their argument for some unknown reason. Shanks scratched his cheek awkwardly, avoiding the First Mate's piercing stare. "So where exactly will it take us?" he asked._

_Their Captain gave a secretive smile. "To a friend." He gestured at the pool. "Jump in, boys!"_

" _I can't swim." Buggy protested._

" _You won't have to." Roger assured him. When the two still did not move, he huffed. "Now—"_

_Rayleigh laid a hand on his Captain's arm. "Maybe we should go first." he cautioned. "Or do you not remember what happened the first time we went through?"_

_Shanks and Buggy exchanged worried glances, but Roger's moody expression quickly alleviated their fears. It also raised their curiosity. The Pirate King gave what would be a pout on a lesser man. "Nightlight caught me off guard. I could have taken him!"_

_His First Mate gave him a skeptical look. "Right."_

_Roger scoffed and muttered under his breath. His dark eyes flicked to the cabin boys and a rarely-seen gentleness softened the harsh lines of his face. "Besides, there's nothing to worry about. They won't attack kids."_

_Shanks had about a billion questions— give or take a few— but had a feeling they would be answered on the other side of the… portal thing. He inched towards the pool and peered into it once more. The pool did not appear to have a bottom. If he stepped into it, it looked like he would fall forever, never stopping as he was lost amongst the stars. Abruptly, a feeling of vertigo overcame him as he stared into the seemingly endless dark blue._

" _I can't believe it." Buggy gasped. "Is the great Shanks scared?"_

" _I'm not scared." The red-haired teen snapped, unable to resist denying the childish insult. "I'll go first."_

" _If you insist." Roger said agreeably. "Be careful not to wander off."_

_Shanks nodded and gulped internally, stepping back beside the pool. The stars shimmered and danced even though the 'water' remained still, and he was soon transfixed by its exotic beauty. The lights spun, twirled, and swayed hypnotically…_

_The cabin boy did_ _**not** _ _get dizzy and fall into the water like a swooning maiden, no matter what Buggy would claim later. He merely got distracted for a moment. His dive was totally, one-hundred percent intentional. It_ _**was** _ _._

_Shanks yelped as he plunged into the water, instinctively holding his breath as it the world and his crew vanished. Lights flew past him, blurring into streaks of white, but rather than scare him, his panic slowly faded. He stretched his arms out, trying to touch the lights, but could not seem to reach them. They were too far away, or maybe they simple could not be grasped by human hands. So instead he watched the light in wonder, not even noticing that he had no trouble breathing._

_A white space similar to a doorway appeared at the end of the light and Shanks threw his hands up to shield his face, certain he was about to hit a wall at unimaginable speeds. He exited the portal, the lights vanishing, and stumbled a couple steps, startled that he was still upright. He glanced behind him to see another pool of stars, though this one was more like a window or door and less like a lake._

_Shanks took in his surroundings. He was in a white room that was unlike anything he had seen before. It was clean but not stuffy and sterile like hospitals were. Rather than seem empty and barren, the room managed to be bright, open, and welcoming all at the same time. Some type of basin was set near the portal, but when Shanks looked at it, he immediately had to turn away, dizzied._

_What appeared to be constantly changing pictures floated in the bowl, wobbly and shimmering, but they switched too rapidly for the boy to make sense of any of them. Instead they had the effect of making him feel like he was spinning in circles, trapping his eyesight so he could not see anything else as the world twirled around him, causing his stomach to churn. Shanks groaned, rubbing at his eyes in an attempt to brush away the wooziness that gripped him, and dragged his attention to the last prominent fixture in the room._

_A wide window was on the opposite side of the room as the portal and the cabin boy walked over to it, peering outside. He gasped aloud. He was in space, higher up than Skypeia could ever hope to reach. The sky around him was much like the portal he had just passed through, dark and filled with stars, but standing out among the specks of light was a small blue and green planet. Shanks stared at it in awe, just able to make out strange land masses below the clouds that did not come close to matching the Red Line._

" _Whoa." he whispered, at a loss for words._

_Shanks heard more than saw his crewmates come through the portal, so entranced by the planet he could not be bothered to turn to them. Buggy stalked over to him, likely ready to start another argument or complain about something, only to halt when he too saw the view._

" _Is that our world?" Buggy gasped._

" _No." a new, gentle voice said. "That's a planet called 'Earth'."_

_Shanks and Buggy spun to face the two figures that walked towards the pirates. They made up an odd pair, and that was saying something considering who the cabin boys traveled with. One was a boy with shocking white hair… that glowed. He appeared to be made of light, gleaming noticeably even in the already-bright room. His face was friendly— if a little stern as he glanced at Roger— and he wore strange armor like one who was used to the weight of it, despite his rather thin frame._

_His companion was quite different from him, yet in some ways was the same. He seemed to be a man, and his hair was also white, yet was only a few strands, standing upright in a way that was similar to a question mark. He was dressed in what appeared to be a gold suit, and while he appeared to be more humanoid then his friend, he still carried an aura of surrealism around him._

" _Manny!" Roger greeted enthusiastically. "And Nightlight!"_

_The gold-clothed man smiled._

_The white-haired boy stared at the Captain neutrally._

" _I didn't break anything this time, I swear." The Pirate King said instantly._

_Nightlight rolled his pale green eyes. His gaze found Shanks and the red-haired pirate went still, feeling as if the boy— was he even a boy like he appeared to be?— was not taking in his features, but judging his very soul. The cabin boy had to break away first, unnerved by the serene knowingness in Nightlight's ancient orbs. It was like the white-haired boy knew everything about him just by looking at him, and that made Shanks feel uncomfortable._

" _I brought some people to meet you." Roger said happily, interrupting Shanks' thoughts. "Manny, Nightlight, meet Shanks and Buggy, my cabin boys. Boys, meet Nightlight, Manny's guard, and Tsar Lunar, the Man in the Moon. Also called Manny."_

_He eagerly shoved Shanks and Buggy forward, and both teens froze beneath calm brown eyes. Unlike Nightlight's scouring stare, Tsar Lunar's gaze portrayed pure happiness and joy, his entire body seeming to glow with a tender warmth that slowly vanquished Shanks' unease. Manny's aura felt… safe. There was no other way to describe it. In his presence, Shanks felt at peace, like a parent long forgotten was speaking to him and reassuring him that no harm would come to him here._

" _Welcome to my home, children." Manny's voice was moonlight, soft, kind, and nearly musical in its delivery._

_It was very soothing, shockingly so, and although Shanks wanted to protest that he was not a child, the gentleness in Tsar Lunar's eyes made the words die on his tongue. Surprisingly, Buggy kept his silence as well, though he did gape comically._

"… _Hi." Shanks mumbled, feeling uncharacteristically shy._

_Buggy also failed to act like his usual, loud self, merely waving vaguely. The red-haired pirate understood, but also did not. The Man in the Moon was not threatening by any means, yet his presence was…_ _**large** _ _. Shanks was not one to feel small, even around some of his more hulking crewmates, but standing before Tsar Luna… it was like he faced a calm mountain instead of a small man, something ancient and powerful that was peaceful, yes, but should be respected._

" _Hello." Manny replied. "It is wonderful to meet you both… though I am surprised that Roger has children in his crew now."_

_The look Tsar Lunar gave the Pirate King was not judging, but questioning, simply wondering why. There was still no threat in his aura, but Shanks sensed that if Roger gave an answer that the Man in the Moon disagreed with, his disappointment would be far worse than any act of violence._

_The Pirate King was neither outraged nor upset by Manny's query, waving vaguely as he leaned against a wall. "I'll let the brats share how and why they joined up with me." He paused and glanced at Nightlight, who was inching closer. "I didn't do anything wrong._ _**Stop** _ _looking at me like that."_

_If Shanks did not know better, he would swear his Captain was nervous. The white-haired definitely-not-a-boy smiled innocently but retreated without a word._

" _All right." Tsar Lunar agreed easily. He looked back to the boys, who were still dumbstruck. "May I hear about your journey and how you came to be here?" the Man in the Moon questioned._

" _We showed up… through the portal thingy. From our world." Shanks said lamely._  Dear Oda, I'm making a fool of myself.

_Tsar Lunar's lips twitched but he did not laugh at the teen's words. Perhaps he was used to people being nervous around him. Or he was simply kind enough not to comment on Shanks' inability to form a proper conversation at the moment. It was probably the latter._

" _That is not what I meant, but I suppose that is an apt explanation." Manny said diplomatically. "I was wondering if you would like to share tales of your journey to the pool."_

" _Er. Sure. We'll swap stories. Would you like to come to our world?" Shanks blurted. "I mean we came here so do you want to your house so do you want to see ours?"_ Yup. Still making a fool of myself. Great.

_The Man in the Moon chuckled, and the sound made the teen smile without knowing why. "I'm afraid not. Returning through the portal back to your world is impossible for Spirits such as me without the permission and assistance of certain… individuals. It is to prevent Spirits or even people of Earth from stumbling into your world, you see. Or going back for rev…" He trailed off, shaking his head firmly like he was banishing an unpleasant memory._

"' _Spirits'?" Buggy questioned. "What's a Spirit?"_

_Roger put an arm around the clown's shoulders, making him yelp. "Manny will explain. He has some interesting stories to tell, if you want to listen. But first, let us explore this place! Then we'll tell tales of our latest exploits in exchange, eh Manny?"_

_Tsar Lunar gave a smile that shone like the full moon. "That sounds wonderful."_

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace's eyes were wide with childlike awe as the story came to a close. A smile tugged at his lips without his permission and he reached for his notebook. He stared at the page, trying to sort out his thoughts and questions. He finally settled for asking the most prominent— though not exactly important— one on his mind.

" _So I'm guessing he told you about Spirits and the Guardians?"_

"Among other things, yes." Shanks confirmed. "Jack wasn't a Guardian yet, but Manny told me all about Tooth, North, Bunny, and Sandy." His expression darkened slightly. "Pitch and his creatures too."

Ace nodded slowly, finally able to understand why the red-haired pirate was so knowledgeable about supernatural things from Earth when compared to everyone else. He absently touched the pocket that still held a few of North's Snow Globes. Manny sounded like a kind, wonderful, and forgiving person. Maybe his followers would be the same?

_Maybe they will not grow to hate me like in my nightmares. If Manny can be a friend of the Pirate King, maybe the Guardians can like his damaged son…_

" _What did Nightlight do to make that man so wary?"_  He did not want to write the Pirate King's name. It would be too easy for someone to read through his notebook and make assumptions or ask questions.

Shanks snorted. "Nightlight had a habit of…  _teasing_  my Captain. Like Rayleigh said, he ambushed Roger the first time he and his crew came through the portal. Nightlight probably did not expect anyone to ever use that thing so he was justly startled. I could never get the exact details about it, but Nightlight got the drop on Roger and knocked him out."

Ace giggled silently, unable to brood about his father when picturing the man getting whacked on the head by a glowing boy. He suspected that was why Shanks was so willing to share a story about the Pirate King being 'defeated' for once, and the fire-user had to admit that the Yonko's tale differed greatly from the ones he was used to hearing about his father. This story did not make Roger seem like a monster. It almost… made him sound human.

"After that, Nightlight made a habit of hounding Roger." Shanks continued. "He actually liked my Captain, but couldn't pass up an opportunity to make Roger jump for his own amusement."

 _He sounds a bit like Jack,_  Ace thought.  _Too bad they never met each other._

That brought him to another question the Summer Spirit had. _"How did no one find it?"_  he asked, unwilling to write about the portal.

He could think of a couple obvious reasons why few people knew about the pool that led to the Man in the Moon's home, and Ace intended to keep that secret a secret. He already caused enough damage on a daily basis. He did not want to reveal that there was a way to Tsar Lunar on this world.

"The portal is hidden." Shanks revealed, a twinkle in his eye. " _Very_  hidden."

 _I think a big starlight-pool would be easy to spot_ , Ace thought, confused.  _Unless he means the location is concealed at a place few people can find._

His mind instantly jumped to one such place and he nearly snorted. Having lived with Luffy for a long time and gathered information he did not want or need throughout his travels, he immediately thought of Raftel when hearing about 'hidden places'. But that was impossible. Why would the pool be there of all places? Surely someone would know about it. Although the Roger Pirates were supposedly the only ones known to find the island…

 _No way_ , Ace thought.

His shock must have been a sight to see because Shanks laughed so hard he looked ready to cry. The Red Hair Captain wiped a tear from his eye, still sniggering, before he met Ace's wide eyes. His own expression softened and he adopted a gentle visage.

"I see you figured it out." Shanks said warmly. "Don't write anything, okay? We don't want anyone reading about all that."

Ace took the Yonko's warning to heart, placing his pen in his notebook to show he understood. His thoughts spun, lumping together in a jumble of gibberish, but his mind also sang with happiness and excitement as he realized what Shanks had just told him.

There was only one place the fire-user could think of where the way to Earth resided. One place where a few people had a chance to find it, where a certain crew  _had_  found it. There the portal would be safe. From the Marines, from pirates, from the world as a whole. Ace did not care how it got there or why. Not yet, at the very least. All he could comprehend was a small part of what he had been told, a key piece of information that vanquished one of his many fears and made his heart soar.

Once he left for Earth, maybe he would not be losing Luffy forever.

Maybe they would see each other again…

… _Once Luffy becomes Pirate King._

" _Thank you."_  Ace wrote, unable to put the brimming emotions he felt into the words.

Shanks seemed to understand how much his information meant to the Summer Spirit for he smiled. "No problem." He said simply. "Now go. I'm sure your brothers want to see you." His grin grew sly. "And after hearing about how cool their boss is, maybe you'll be willing to give a few Guardians a chance?"

Ace's responding smile was answer enough.


	36. Broken Ace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I don't put warnings at the beginnings of chapters beyond this point.

Ace left the Red Force with a slight spring in his step. He did not grin or anything like that, but his skin felt less cold and his body less tired, a sense of clarity and purpose returning to him he concluded that he liked. He made his way onto the Moby Dick, nodding to Vista as he passed. He scanned the deck and did not see his brothers. Deciding to check his room for them before heading over to the Sunny, the Summer Spirit headed below deck.

A few pirates greeted him as he walked by, and Ace found he was able to smile or wave in response without hesitation. Some ignored his presence completely, and although he felt his usual twinge of grief and unease, the fire-user forced himself not to dwell on it. Instead he planned.

As much as he wanted to, he could not reveal the reason for his jubilation to Luffy and Sabo. Not just because smarter people may put the pieces together and figure out where the portal to Manny was located, but also because the Straw Hat Captain would be furious if Ace gave him 'spoilers'. Instead of clenching at the thought of upsetting his brother, Ace's heart lightened as he went over the tale again, feeling so much calmer than he once had. Shanks had likely told him of his meeting with the Man in the Moon to try to speak with him about Roger in a way the fire-user would accept, but Ace still had to thank the man, albeit for completely different reasons.

_Once I leave for Earth, there's a chance I'll see Luffy again_ , Ace thought.  _It may take a while, but I won't lose him forever yet. Not as soon as I thought I would._

The fire-user touched his pocket, feeling the outline of the special star-filled Snow Globe. Based on Shanks' descriptions of the pool, he had an idea where that one led. If he was right and it did go to Raftel, then he really needed to return it to North. The thought did not scare him so much as upset him, and the Summer Spirit felt the selfish urge to keep the starry sphere. Ethics aside though, with his luck he would break it.

_After I find my brothers, I'll go talk to the Guardians,_ he resolved, and although his breathing quickened a little, he felt little urge to be sick.

The Summer Spirit counted that as an improvement. His doubts tried to murmur that the Guardians would probably think he stole the Globe and hate him for it but he shoved his fears away, refusing to let them overwhelm him again. The Guardians were not his enemies. They were not taking him from his family forever. He could face them. Ace walked around two pirates carrying a crate without really paying attention. He headed deeper, easily dodging crewmates and slipping into the sleeping quarters.

The change in atmosphere was startling.

Ace's steps slowed as he got closer to his room, feeling as if he had been dropped into a different realm. Pirates rushed about frantically, some speaking lowly as they exchanged dark glances. The talking stopped when they noticed the fire-user, and he quickened his pace to escape the stares he could feel boring into his back. Some moved as if to block him, only to freeze up and back away when they saw the uneasy twitches in his expression. Ace felt flickers of shame for his adverse reactions and ducked his head, hurrying along.

Ace relaxed when he broke through the crowd that had gathered in the hall— how strange— and the open door of his room came into sight. Sabo stood in the doorway, back stiff and fists clenched, and the Summer Spirit felt a bubble of concern. He touched his brother's arm but the Revolutionary did not acknowledge him, continuing to stare ahead with an empty expression. Jack loitered just ahead of him, inside the room, and he too failed to notice the Summer Spirit. Confused, Ace peered past the frozen Revolutionary and Winter Spirit, and felt his own mind go blank.

His room was completely demolished.

The lamp was a broken pile of glass on the ground. The desk and chair were torn apart, resembling kindling more than furniture. His bedframe was mangled and turned on its side, his mattress ripped to shreds with pieces of stuffing and warped springs sticking out of the stubbornly clinging remnants of fabric like barbed wire. For a second, Ace could not find his pillow, only to see the feathers randomly strewn about the room, the case and cloth dropped carelessly on the floor. The closet door was off its hinges, with the board snapped almost cleanly in half and the knob dangling pathetically from a single nail.

Even the walls did not escape unscathed. Deep gashes were carved into every panel, almost looking as if a crazed animal had been locked in the room and had tried to escape. Except no such animal Ace could think of was capable of writing. Messages were hacked into the wood, some long, some short, some made illegible by overlapping letters, but most were easy enough to read. The Summer Spirit could not tear his eyes away from the comments etched into the walls of his room, the numbness trickling through his body growing stronger with every word he read.

MONSTER

THEY'RE DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU

THEIR LIVES WEREN'T WORTH IT

LIAR

YOU'RE NOT OUR BROTHER

CHANGELING

GO BACK TO HELL, DEMON

FREAK

YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD

THIS IS YOUR FAULT

YOU'RE NOT WELCOME HERE, TRAITOR

KILL YOURSELF OR WE'LL DO IT FOR YOU

That was only a tiny portion of the insults written on the walls. Staring at the threats and hateful messages, Ace almost felt the illogical urge to laugh. A choking sound made its way past his lips and Jack was at his side in an instant, grabbing him and holding him so his view of the room was blocked with the Winter Spirit's body. The fire-user felt the usual tears pricking at his eyes, but at the same time it was like a huge weight had been removed from his shoulders. This was not a nightmare. This was the real world. And yet…

_They finally saw what I am. I knew this was going to happen. I was right._

Ace's nightmares no longer seemed so irrational. His paranoia was no longer so farfetched. His constant stress and phobias about being despised and hated was no longer simply an illogical fear that could never actually occur. The evidence was right in front of the Summer Spirit. His room— his sanctuary— had been torn apart and vandalized, venomous taunts engraved into the walls just to tell him what an awful person he was.

Ace felt more than saw Jack and Sabo hug him, sandwiching him between their bodies like the action would protect him from the world. The familiar sensation of saltwater stinging his eyes made the fire-user tremble, and he reached up to grip his brothers desperately. Despite his unshed tears, Ace did not feel sad. Instead, he felt cold and… comforted.

At last, someone understood. Someone had finally seen his rotten core, and had taken it upon themselves to let him know they would not hide their intentions. They would tell him what they really thought of him. And that person  _despised_  him. The knowledge was almost freeing, or maybe something else in Ace had irreparably cracked and left him unable to behave like he should. Their methods for showing their comprehension were cruel, but Ace had earned their hatred.

They showed that Ace's fears were not illogical. They were justified. And that knowledge, the understanding that he had been correct in his assumptions, made the Summer Spirit want to laugh out loud. That was not the proper response to this situation. It was not even close. But Ace could not deny that he felt calmer than before, now that a threat had revealed themselves. He would still be watching the shadows for attacks, but now he  _knew_  an attack might come. Now he would not be jumping due to baseless paranoia.

Ace almost felt triumphant. He was right. His fears were not stupid. His beliefs weren't unfounded. Someone hated him. Someone blamed him. That someone was in the real world. His panic was not unsubstantiated.

Ace's nightmares were real.

His heart ached.

The fire-user tried to step into his room, only for Sabo to pull him back. Awareness returned to the Revolutionary's blue gaze, and he glared at the pirates gathered in the hall around them before turning back to his brother.

"You shouldn't walk in there." He said in a stuffy voice that suggested he was struggling to stay calm. "There's glass. How about we go… Uh…"

Ace watched his brother stammer and fail, expression shifting between worry, guilt, and a burning rage. The fire-user noted that the Revolutionary was more upset then him, probably seeing the destruction as unjust. Ace was able to accept the consequences of his actions, however. Though that did not mean he liked seeing his sibling so distraught.

He flipped open his notebook to a new page.  _"It's okay, Sabo. It's just a room."_

"It's  _your_  room." The Revolutionary snapped, not soothed at all. "Ace, someone went in there and  _destroyed_  your stuff!"

" _It wasn't really mine."_  Ace wrote.  _"I didn't have any personal items in there. All of it came with the room."_

His hat was atop his head, he had his pair of black pants, and his other possessions were on his person, so it was fine. The insults were a bit… upsetting, but Ace had not lost anything. The fire-user briefly imagined what it would be like if one of his few accessories— namely his hat—  _had_  been in the room and a shudder went through his body. He took a breath and exhaled sharply, grappling with the grief that tried to bubble up.

_I am_ _**not** _ _going to get upset about this. It's just a room. Nothing important was there. I deserved it, and I need to accept that._

_Nothing. Is. Wrong._

Jack squeezed his shoulder gently. "How about we go see Marco? It's getting a little crowded here."

Their audience was indeed bigger than before. The pirates murmured amongst themselves, some gasping aloud when they spotted the destruction and threats on the walls, while a few rushed off to tell the Commanders about what had occurred. The rest all stole glances at the fire-user to see his reaction. Ace's discomfort grew and he bit his lip, feeling exposed. There were too many eyes on him, and his skin started to crawl.

" _Actually I need to find the Guardians."_  The letters came out wobbly and jagged. Surprisingly, his shaking hands were not caused by the subject matter.

Jack visibly hesitated. His eyes flicked left and right, taking in the mob of pirates, and when he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper. "Ace, this isn't some kind of sign that you have to force yourself to…"

The fire-user shook his head violently to silence the Winter Spirit, mood shifting to frustration. His desire to— finally— meet the Guardians had nothing to do with his room, not that Jack would know that. Here was neither the time nor place to explain, so instead of trying to, Ace scanned the area again, seeking a way out. His priorities quickly changed as his initial shock faded, and he noted the absence of a certain rubber pirate.

" _Where's Luffy?"_  Ace asked, thoughts instantly flashing to a plethora of increasingly bad scenarios.

"He ran off to get Marco or Thatch as soon as he saw your room." Sabo told him, alleviating his fear before it could choke him. "He should be—"

A few pirates yelped as they were carelessly shoved aside by someone in their midst, and Ace soon found himself struck by a Luffy-shaped torpedo. The Summer Spirit kept his balance and shifted his weight accordingly, careful not to let himself and his brother go flying into the glass-filled room.

"Ace!" Luffy cried, hugging him.

The fire-user's arms were pinned but he did not try to break free, accepting his brother's painfully tight grip. He looked over Luffy's head to see Marco, Izo, and Jozu emerging after the rubber pirate. The crowd parted before them without a single command being uttered, though the murmurs still continued. The Sixteenth Division Commander was having none of it.

"All of you, clear out!" Izo barked. "You have better things to do then stand here and gawk."

Their audience slowly dispersed, with the dawdlers quickly fleeing when the okama glowered at them. Jozu watched them go and leaned over, talking in a low voice that Ace was certain he was not meant to hear.

"You aren't going to order them to keep quiet about this?"

"There's no point." Izo replied. "Most of the ship already knows about what happened here."

Marco ignored them both, approaching Ace and laying a hand on his shoulder. The fire-user looked up at him, blinking, and balked at the severity in his expression.

"Are you okay?" the Phoenix asked.

_Why wouldn't I be?_ Ace nodded and elaborated in his notebook, wanting to reduce the concern he could see in the blond-haired pirate's greenish eyes.  _"I wasn't in the room and I had all my stuff with me. I'm fine."_

The Phoenix frowned at his answer but turned to Jack and Sabo without questioning him further. "What happened?"

"We don't know." Sabo said, acting as their spokesperson. "Before Rockstar told us Ace was with Shanks, we split up to search for him and I looked here. The room was fine then so I kept looking for him elsewhere until Jack passed Rockstar's message on to me. After that we decided to stay on the Sunny a bit before heading back to Ace's room to meet him here." His eyes grew shadowed. "When we got here again, the room was like this. We did not see anyone in the room or leaving it. Then Luffy shouted and a bunch of pirates came running. No one there looked really  _suspicious_  or anything although..." The Revolutionary glanced uncomfortably at Ace. "…a few seemed a little… pleased by the damage."

Ace stared at the ground, wavering between sorrow and a hollow acceptance.  _I earned their hatred. Remember that._

Marco did not agree with his sentiment. In fact, he looked livid, giving off a menacing aura that was only enhanced by the black sand fighting on his skin. It might be the lighting, but Ace swore his eyes were more yellow then greenish. The Summer Spirit winced as he watched the black marks race across the Phoenix's neck, forced back below his collar by blue flames. The blond-haired Commander grimaced and exhaled, either from the pain or to try to calm himself down.

"Can you give me descriptions of those that seemed happy with what happened?" he asked flatly.

Sabo and Jack exchanged a glance, both visibly cringing.

"I wouldn't say they looked  _happy_ …" the Revolutionary's protest died pathetically as the Phoenix glared at him.

"Strife amongst brothers on a crew this size is to be expected, but this matter goes beyond that." Marco said coolly. "The perpetrator not only destroyed a room on our Captain's ship, but has  _threatened_  one of us. This is not a matter to treat lightly. The culprit must be found and punished, so share any information you think you have. They might be family, but we will not let them get away with this."

"But what if it wasn't a Whitebeard Pirate?" Jack questioned hesitantly.

Luffy stared at him, eyes round and hurt. "My crew wouldn't do this." He said quietly. He paused, then added. "Neither would Shanks' crew."

"That's not what I was saying. I honestly can't picture any of them doing this." The Winter Spirit rushed to assure him. "I was talking about the Allies. There's a lot of them that could have..." He stilled, wincing. "Not that I'm accusing them either. I'm just saying it could be a Whitebeard Pirate but it could be someone else too…" He trailed off and sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Wow, this  _sucks_. Unless Pitch decided to redecorate Ace's room for fun, it's someone on our side that did this, isn't it?"

His question was unanswered by all.

Ace wanted to say they did not need to find the perpetrator and ask them to just let it go so there would be no more trouble, but knew his request would not be accepted. The others did not seem to understand that the destruction was warranted and the Summer Spirit deserved it for all of his lies and actions. He would try to explain his thoughts, but that would just cause them to give him more lectures and false reassurances. After all, their claims that no one would despise him had been proven untrue so why waste time with such well-meaning but ultimately stupid lies?

Marco stood just inside the room, studying the destruction and hateful taunts with cold eyes. He stepped out and shut the door firmly, turning to Izo and Jozu. "Izo, have a few division members clean up the mess, but don't throw anything out and leave the walls alone for now. We'll need evidence to try to narrow down the list of suspects. Jozu…" He hesitated, then exhaled in a sharp gust. "…Question the Commanders and Allied Captains. See if they have alibis."

The Third Division Commander's frown deepened. "You can't possibly think one of  _us_  did this?"

"We need to check everyone, and I'll feel much more comfortable involving the others in the search for the culprit once we know  _they're_  clear." Marco said like every word pained him. He stilled, eyes flicking wide and hand twitching like he wanted to slap himself.

Izo held up a hand. "I was with my division for most of today. It was our turn to do laundry."

"So that's why you were carrying that basket." Luffy piped up, confirming the okama's claim.

"Yes. The one you knocked from my hands when you ran into me." Izo huffed dryly. "My division is probably still cleaning up that mess."

"I've been in the crow's nest being the lookout." Jozu provided his own alibi. "I only came down when I saw Straw Hat running on the deck shouting for Marco."

"I was really surprised when he went after me." Luffy informed them randomly. "He's been hiding because he's scared of Nami."

The large man's cheeks reddened. "I am  _not_  afraid of the Straw Hat's Navigator. She just found out about my abilities and has insisted on… following me."

It took Ace a moment to understand, but when he did, he felt a laugh— a happy one this time— bubble up inside him.

Jack sniggered, also finding amusement in the poor Diamond Man's misfortune. "I'm surprised she hasn't tried to kidnap you."

Jozu twitched. "Don't give her any ideas."

"All right." Marco said, still focused on the matter at hand. "Then we will follow through with the plan. I will inform Oyaji about what happened, while you two begin subtly clearing the Commanders. After that, we'll move on to the Captains and then the lower-ranked members." Green-tinted eyes rested on Sabo. "If you don't mind, I'd like you help me try to identify those that seemed pleased with the destruction. That may help us narrow down the number of suspects."

The desire to ask them not to bother rose up again, and Ace put the tip of the blue pen to the page. The others noticed and looked to him, waiting for him to write. The fire-user cringed. He knew sharing his belief that the culprit was justified would only cause them to smother him more but now he needed to say  _something_.

_Change the subject. "Can we go find the Guardians?"_  he directed the question at Jack. He continued before the Winter Spirit could object.  _"I meant what I said. I'm ready to see them. I talked to Shanks and he told me..."_  He hesitated, glancing at Luffy. _"…some things so I think I can face them now."_

Jack eyed him searchingly and Ace readily met his gaze, trying to convey that he was ready for this and was not forcing himself for others' sakes for once. The Guardian of Fun crossed his arms.

"…If you want to." He allowed eventually.

Ace smiled gratefully.

Luffy frowned, eyes shadowed. "You guys go do that. I'm going to check on my crew."

Sabo caught him by the back of his shirt before he could run off. He looked to the three Whitebeard Commanders. "I'm guessing that you don't want this to get out any more than it already has?" At their nods, he looked to his little brother. "You can't tell your crew about the investigation, Luffy." The rubber pirate opened his mouth to protest but Sabo silenced him with a stern stare. "I know they didn't do this, but it'll be easier if less people know we are looking for the culprit. We'll have a better chance of catching him— or her— that way."

Looking miserable, Luffy nodded. "Okay. I'll try not to tell them."

"I guess that's all we can ask for." Marco said. "Jozu, can you stay here and make sure no one enters the room until Izo and his division gets back?"

"Sure." The Third Division Commander agreed easily.

They went their separate ways. Sabo went with Marco, while Luffy rushed off to the Sunny. Ace and Jack moved at a slower pace, and once the others were gone, the Winter Spirit stopped his brother with a hand on his arm.

"Are you  _certain_  you want to see the Guardians?" he asked seriously. "No one is going to judge you if you aren't ready."

Ace peered back in the direction of his demolished room and slowly wrote in his notebook, considering each word carefully before writing it down.  _"I'm ready._ _ **Really**_ _. Shanks told me something that kind of neutralized one of my fears dealing with the Guardians. I'll explain once I'm sure no one has a chance of seeing what I write."_

He hated being so vague, but did not have much choice. The Summer Spirit did not want to risk revealing the Guardians' strange connection to Raftel.  _Especially_  since what was likely the very valuable way of getting to the island of legend without the usual steps was sitting in his pocket. He could see the curiosity shining in Jack's eyes but the Winter Spirit nodded.

"Okay then."

They began to search the ship for the Guardians. They were not in their room. They were not on the deck. They were not on the Red Force or another ship. Naturally, they were in the mess hall, a place Ace was slowly beginning to despise. There were so many people, and he had been overwhelmed and forced to flee the place two, maybe three times now. It did not help that many still gave him strange and judging looks, thinking he would not notice. As he stood in the doorway, already feeling the eyes on him, Ace kept his expression neutral.

_I'll pretend they're staring at me for not eating much, and not all that other stuff,_  he resolved after a moment of battling with the desire to back out of the room as quickly as he appeared.  _None of them possibly hate me. None of them care I'm a Spirit. They're just surprised that I'm not consuming piles of food. That is all._

He could almost delude himself into believing it.

Ace saw the Guardians sitting with Thatch, Vista, Bay, and surprisingly, Law. The fire-user questioned why the surgeon was there and not on the Sunny until he saw the tiny turquoise Fairy that kept flying between the pirate and Tooth. His heart warmed slightly as he watched Baby Tooth excitedly go back and forth between her 'mom' and Law, speaking happily to the Guardian of Memories before returning to the Heart Pirate and chattering to him.

Law seemed to listen to her even though he could not understand a word of what she said, a small smile making its way onto his face. It was obvious the surgeon was hanging out with the Guardians— and by extension, the Whitebeard Pirates— for Baby Tooth's sake, making it so she did not need to constantly go long distances to speak with Tooth and her own apparent favorite human.

The conversation faltered for a second when the people facing the door saw Ace approaching, but a joke from Thatch quickly stopped an uneasy atmosphere from settling over them. The fire-user felt a tingle of nerves as he grabbed a plate and a small bit of food before walking to the table once more. He stopped behind Tooth and Law, gulped, and tapped the Guardian of Memories' shoulder.

She turned, pink eyes settling on him, and for a single moment, surprise flashed across her features. Then Tooth smiled, her grin both gentle and bright, like she had been given a present that was both delicate and precious. "Ace. Would you like to sit here?"

Tooth scooted sideways, making a space between her and Law. The surgeon did not look at the fire-user, though he moved aside as well to give him a little more breathing room. Ace smiled politely, nodding in thanks, and sat down. North and Bunny were across from him, but Jack was as well, having settled between the two Guardians. The Summer Spirit almost had to laugh at the differences in their height, a contrast that was obvious due to the Winter Spirit's placement at the table.

Ace only managed to smile a little, hiding it with the brim of his hat. He stared at his plate, blinking in confusion as he spotted the three half-sandwiches placed on the dish. How odd. He swore he had only grabbed one…The Summer Spirit blinked again and only a single sandwich was there. Ace squinted at his plate then shook his head to clear it, reaching for the food. To his bewilderment— and slight dismay— his fingers closed around nothing but air. According to his sight, he should be touching the bread but he felt nothing.

_I guess I'm more tired than I thought._

Praying no one noticed his mistake, Ace moved his hands slowly over the plate, nearly jumping as his fingers bumped into the sandwich. His hands quivered as he carefully lifted it to his mouth. It tasted a little off to him, but that was probably because of his lingering discomfort. He could not start a conversation, nor was he willing to just yet, and he felt his earlier confidence falling out of his grasp.

_Breathe_ , he ordered himself.  _So what if I'm a little more nervous than I thought? Nothing bad has happened, and I'm_ _ **near**_ _them, at least. That's a step in the right direction. I am fine._

He could feel Jack eyeing him from time to time but did not look at the Winter Spirit, knowing that his fragile peace would break if he saw the concern on his brother's face. The world faded from time to time, sounds becoming muted and his vision going dark, but the Summer Spirit managed to stay focused for the most part, refraining from sinking into his usual oblivion.

Ace felt a small weight settle on his hat and reached up, gently patting Baby Tooth on the head. The Mini Fairy cooed happily and told him how happy she was to see him, and that she was glad he was here, and if the Guardians scared him, she'd beat them up. Except Tooth of course, but Bunny and North were fair game. Jack sniggered at Baby Tooth's brash claim, while Tooth herself looked pleased with the Mini Fairy's declaration.

"What'd she say that's got you so happy?"

Ace flinched when Bunny spoke, nearly sending his plate flying, but Law subtly stopped the dish from falling to the floor with an outstretched hand. The fire-user's panic subsided when he realized the Pooka's question was not directed at him.

"Baby Tooth is just being a good friend." Tooth said vaguely, a teasing smile making its way onto her face.

"She certainly is." North said with a laugh. He looked across the table at Law before his sight moved to Ace. The fire-user tried not to tense when he met warm blue eyes. "It seems that little Baby Tooth has grown quite attached to the surgeon. Why, she's refused to leave his side."

Baby Tooth blew a raspberry at the Guardian of Wonder.

Law crossed his arms, a bored expression on his face. "You are greatly mistaken if you think it is because of 'friendship'. My hat is just a conveniently-placed soft perch."

He spoke the words seriously, but even Ace could sense the bland humor in his tone. Baby Tooth flew from the fire-user's hat and into the surgeon's face, protesting that she did care for him and not just his fluffy headwear, only to quickly realize he was joking. She scowled at Law, prodding his cheek irritably, and flew back to Ace, sitting on his shoulder in a huff.

Jack chuckled. "I think she's mad at you, Law."

"Oh no." the surgeon said flatly. "However shall I cope?"

Baby Tooth stuck her tongue out at him and turned to Ace. She whined about Law's sarcasm, called the surgeon a few rather tame names that could be seen as shocking when considering who she was, and lamented that Law could not understand her so she could retaliate. The fire-user hesitated and took out his notebook.

" _She called you a 'grumpy pile of moodiness and angst'."_

Baby Tooth gaped, giving the Summer Spirit a horrified look. Strangely enough, her expression only encouraged the fire-user to share more.

" _And an 'evil baby seal-wannabe'."_  Ace added.

Law's lips pressed into a thin line as if he were struggling not to smile. "Oh really?"

The Mini Fairy gave a quiet shriek, hiding in Ace's hair. She hissed in his ear, shocked by his betrayal, and the Summer Spirit shrugged shamelessly. Baby Tooth was the one who wanted Law to understand, so he took it upon himself to assist her. She realized this too and pouted, even as she asked if Ace could continue to translate for her.

The fire-user instantly agreed with a nod, entertained by her response, but faltered when he saw Tooth looking at him. His insides seemed to turn into mush and he stared at his plate, skin paling. Ace was so stupid. He was not the only one who could understand Baby Tooth. The others could interpret her words for people, and it would be easier than if he tried to. He had to write things while they could just speak, so why the hell did he ever think it would be a good idea to agree to help her when others could—?

"Did Jack ever tell you what American Sign Language is?" Tooth asked.

Ace peered at her, slowly acknowledging that she was speaking to him, and frantically scoured his memory. His thoughts remained trapped in the recent past and present, stuck on a loop of discomfort and doubt, and he reluctantly shrugged. The Guardian of Memories did not appear to be irritated by his inability to answer.

"American Sign Language, also known as ASL, is a way of communicating with gestures and signs." Tooth told him, not the slightest bit of contempt in her tone because of his ignorance.

Ace blinked at the 'ASL' comment but managed to take in all of her words without getting distracted.

"It's commonly used where we're from as a way for those that are deaf or mute to 'talk'." She continued. "I know it, and I could teach you if you'd like so you do not have to rely on your notebook as much."

Ace stared at her. His eyes moved to Jack, who was watching him intently. The Guardian of Fun displayed a mixture of cheer and caution, like he was trying not to show hopefulness. The Summer Spirit fiddled with his plate and swiftly dropped his hands into his lap to hide their quaking. Still hidden in his hair, Baby Tooth hugged his neck, humming softly. Before Ace could sort out his thoughts and try to respond, Thatch spoke.

"That sounds like a great idea." The chef said eagerly, his gaze alternating between the fire-user and Fairy. "Hand signs would be so much easier."

"I would agree." Bay interjected. "Except then others would have to learn this 'American Sign Language' as well in order to understand him."

Thatch drooped. "Oh yeah."

"It's just something to think about for the future.  _You_  don't have to decide right now, Ace." Tooth interjected, voice gaining a stern edge.

Ace's heart pounded and he wondered what he did to upset her, only to see her glare was directed at the chef. Thatch balked, eyes going to the fire-user, and a guilty expression overcame his features.

"I– uh. I have to go get something really quick." He mumbled, leaving the room.

There was a moment of awkward silence which Ace knew was because of him somehow. He started mentally going over everything he had possibly done wrong, and jumped when Bunny cleared his throat.

"What about Sandy's way of 'talking'?" the Pooka asked. "He uses his sand to create symbols."

"Ace doesn't have sand." Jack said blankly.

Bunny gave him an unimpressed look. "He has fire."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Bay asked. "Fire is very destru…" she paused, rethinking her words. "Fire burns." She finished lamely.

" _ **Fire is destructive and we'd be lucky if the idiot didn't burn everyone to death."**_  Ace knew she was going to say.

"His won't if he doesn't want it to." The Pooka said casually, leaning back slightly with his arms crossed. "He can control the amount of heat it gives off and if it burns things."

"Nuh uh. That's not how it works." Jack denied, shaking his head. "Otherwise I'd be able to stop from freezing things."

Bunny's ears twitched and he frowned. "Why not? You're the one who said he made a firestorm without hurting Luffy."

Ace was getting more confused by the second, and based on the Winter Spirit's expression, he was not the only one having trouble following along.

"What are you…? Oh." Jack's eyes widened with comprehension. "The battle. That was different. I wasn't really close when he defended Luffy from those Fearlings but I saw that wasn't his usual fire. Those flames were… white…" The Guardian's brow furrowed. "Now that I think about it, what were—"

Thatch chose that moment to reappear, glowing like a sun in human form with a brilliant smile on his face. "You guys won't believe what I just found!" he crowed, slamming the papers he held onto the tabletop with a flourish.

The Commanders, Guardians, Bay, Law, and Ace all leaned in to see what the excited chef had brought. Three posters were laid out before them, with familiar faces sketched on each. North gave a happy shout. Tooth groaned and put her head in her hands. Bunny stared, mouth agape.

' _Fairy Queen' Toothiana_

_Wanted Dead or Alive_

_Reward: 200,000,000 Beri_

' _Crimson Swordsman' Nicholas St. North_

_Wanted Dead or Alive_

_Reward: 100,000,000_

' _Killer Rabbit' E. Aster 'Bunny' Bunnymund._

_Reward…_

"Are you pulling my leg?" the Pooka snarled, grabbing his bounty poster off the table and glaring at it. "Two hundred Beri? A measly  _two hundred Beri?!_ "

Jack burst out laughing, and Thatch, North, and a few other pirates soon followed suite. Bunny gave an enraged growl, looking ready to rip the paper— and the laughers— to shreds. Ace covered his mouth with his hand to hide his own grin, but was forced to move his palm away in order to catch Baby Tooth as she fell off his shoulder, cackling maniacally.

The Pooka's eye twitched and he bared his teeth. The look would have been frightening in any other circumstance— especially to Ace— but the fire-user found that he could not be cowed when faced by the Guardian of Hope's amusing indignation.

North patted his fuming companion's back. "Do not fret, Bunny. At least your nickname is threatening,  _da_?"

"Oh,  _yes_." The Pooka sneered sarcastically. "Everyone will tremble before me for that epithet when I have such a rubbish reward. What were they  _thinking_?"

"I have a Minkman on my crew with a bounty of five hundred Beri." Law revealed smoothly, grey eyes glinting beneath the brim of his hat. "The government apparently believes he is my crew's mascot or pet."

North threw his head back, howling with laughter, and Jack nearly fell from his seat, leaning over the table as he giggled. They ignored Bunny's warning glares, and the Pooka eventually gave up in trying to intimidate them, settling for sneering at his bounty. Tooth gently plucked the paper from his paws, lips twitching suspiciously.

"After all that talk about staying out of trouble, you're upset about your low reward?" She asked.

"No." Bunny denied in a grunt. "I'm just rankled that I didn't get a bigger bounty than  _him_."

North smirked at the Pooka in a superior manner. The two Guardians soon devolved into a childish argument, drawing the enthused attention of the nearby pirates. Ace watched them, a slight smile on his face, and nearly jumped a foot into the air when Thatch laid a hand on his arm. The chef's grin was gone, and he looked unnervingly solemn. He dithered, taking in their surroundings and grimaced.

"Come with me for a sec."

Ace rose from his seat and followed the Fourth Division Commander out of the mess hall. He bumped into someone's chair on the way out— which he swore was a foot to the left and out of his path— but the person barely gave him a second glance, thank Manny. It was only after the door shut behind him that his memories of recent events and common sense caught up to him and he realized following the man alone was probably a bad idea, but he shoved away his baseless suspicions. There was no way Thatch was the one to destroy his room— The fire-user felt Baby Tooth clinging to his hair and relaxed further— and he was not alone, so he would be fine. There was no need to be paranoid.

Thatch still had that strained look on his face as he turned to the fire-user. "We just got this with the other posters."

Ace gingerly took the offered sheet of paper, swallowing roughly as he saw his own face— complete with recently-gained flame-colored eyes— staring back at him. The Summer Spirit took a deep breath before letting his gaze drop to the words beneath the sketch.

' _Summer Spirit' Portgas-Gold 'Hiken' D. Ace_

_Wanted ONLY ALIVE_

_Reward: 700,000,000 Beri_

Ace read the poster once. Twice. Three times.

Even then, the words refused to become decipherable in his mind. Abruptly they clicked and he gripped the paper tighter, confusion, shock, and slight fear making his heart thunder in his chest. He understood that the Marines had finally decided to reveal he was still alive. He knew that it made sense to increase his bounty, not only because of his miraculous return but because even after everything he was still the Pirate King's son. It was that middle statement he could not comprehend.

'Only Alive'? Why would they only want him  _alive_? It was always 'Dead or Alive' unless a powerful individual with influence to throw around had requested the retrieval of a living target. Runaway princesses and fleeing political figures got 'Only Alive' bounties. Not pirates and certainly not the son of the Pirate King that the World Government had previously killed. There was only one person Ace could think of that had both the pull and the desire for him to be brought in alive while also being unwilling to risk him being killed. But why would  _Pitch_  do that unless…

… _He wants to kill me himself, and only after I've been hunted. He doesn't just want me dead. If he did, he could appear right back on the Moby Dick and murder me. Instead he wants me to be afraid. He knows my fears. He knows I'm terrified of being captured by the Marines again. It's all part of his sick psychological game._

Ace shuddered and looked up, meeting Thatch's worried eyes.

The chef hid his concern behind a brittle smile. "Looks like your name has become quite the mouthful, huh?"

Ace kept staring at him, eyes hollow. Baby Tooth dropped into his hand, petting his thumb gently. He forced the fingers of his other hand to release the poster, stiffly stroking the Mini Fairy. A feeling he could easily identify as hysteria began to cling to his body, freezing his muscles and filling his lungs with ice water, and a small gasp escaped him. Thatch's arms encased him and he was pulled to the chef's chest.

"They won't get you." The pompadour-sporting pirate vowed fiercely. "I don't know why they want you, but they  _won't_  touch you. Not Pitch, not the Marines, not  _anybody_."

_Not again_ , went unsaid.

Ace believed him. Mostly. And that had to be good enough.

The Marines capturing him was not impossible. An unlucky coincidence, an accident, an unexpected turn of events, any of those things could result in the fire-user falling into enemy hands. However, Ace could not let those possibilities consume him and make him be shackled by fear. Not again. He was confused, and nervous, and very, very scared, but he desperately wanted to avoid falling into another downward spiral so soon after he just clambered back up.

Ace would have to leave someday. But that did not mean he would never see Luffy again. Someone on the ship hated him. But the Guardians did not. The Marines were after him for some nefarious reason. But people like Jack, Sabo, Luffy, Marco, and maybe even Shanks would not let that happen— to the best of their abilities, anyway. Pitch  _really_ wanted Ace dead. But Ace refused to let his fear paralyze him.

He stroked Baby Tooth, movements measured and calm, and felt his heartbeat slowing. He could not think about what-ifs and possibilities. He could not question the motives and loyalty of everyone around him. If he did, his exhaustion would not be the thing that caused him to collapse.

Ace put the bounty poster in his pocket. He would have to tell Jack about it though the Guardian was going to be the opposite of pleased about the news. Not feeling like writing at the moment, the fire-user pointed at Thatch and put his hands in a strange position atop his head, fingers splayed in the air.

Thatch understood his question. "Marco doesn't know yet. I decided to tell you first." He scowled, rubbing at his eyes. "This is going to do wonders for his blood pressure— Don't feel guilty."

Ace forced his expression into what was hopefully a very not-guilty look.

"…You need to stop blaming yourself for things, you know that?" Thatch murmured, almost to himself. Then he shook his head and slung his arm across Ace's shoulders. "Come on. Let's get back before they realize you're gone and tear apart the ship."

They reentered the mess hall. Bunny and North were no longer arguing, instead merely glaring over Jack's head. The Winter Spirit himself was staring intently at the door, relaxing when Ace returned. Law glanced over his shoulder and spotted the Summer Spirit and chef as well. He turned back to Jack, speaking softly, and Ace swore he said 'I told you. See, he's fine.' or something along those lines.

Ace was about to sit down when the Guardians stood up, all their eyes landing on him. The fire-user went rigid beneath their stares, instantly on guard. Baby Tooth flew back to Law and landed on his hat, asking Tooth if she would get a tattoo now that she had a bounty. The Guardian of Memories looked horrified. Jack nudged Bunny, whispering something in his ear that made him scowl, and the Pooka was efficiently distracted as well. That left North, who looked at the Summer Spirit with calm blue eyes.

"We are heading back to our room to talk. Would you like to come with us?" North offered.

His tone was casual, yet very hopeful, and Ace knew if he refused the Guardian of Wonder would feel disappointed. The thought unnerved him a little, but the amount was somehow more than the fear caused by the prospect of finally talking to the Guardians in a private place. Recalling his resolve not to be directed by fear, Ace took a breath and nodded.

North looked like his birthday had come early. He clapped his hands together. "Wonderful! We are going to pin our bounties to the wall."

Bunny's ears flattened. " _No_ , you aren't."

North smiled sweetly and took off running, disappearing from the mess hall faster than his startled observers could blink. The Pooka gave an angry yell and dove after the Cossack, pulling out his boomerangs as he went. Tooth gave a long-suffering sigh and followed her two companions, apologizing to anyone unfortunate enough to be in their way.

Jack sniggered and leaned over, whispering in Ace's ear. "I'm proud of you."

He raced after the other Guardians before Ace could respond. The fire-user hesitated and followed them all, catching up to Jack and running at his side. The Winter Spirit smiled mischievously and ran faster, and Ace sped up as well, determined to keep up. Slowly, the chase turned into a race to the Guardians' room, with the two Seasonal Spirits passing Tooth on their way. Most pirates had already cleared out because of North and Bunny, so the two brothers had little issue shooting through the halls.

Ace felt his lingering panic faded away and he put on a burst of speed. Jack still made it through the open door first, crashing into Bunny and sending both him and the Pooka to the floor. The anxiety snapped back into place when he saw the Guardian of Hope's outraged look but the Summer Spirit rejected it, shoving it away with everything else he denied, like the weird black spots dancing in front of his eyes. He wasn't going to ruin this.

He watched as Bunny's outrage turned into bewilderment and could not help himself. Ace's shoulders shook and he laughed, joy silent but obvious to those around him. His fellow Spirits joined in— including the trampled Bunny— and the Summer Spirit felt a strange sense of companionship and calm. Despite all that had happened and what he had learned, his heart felt lighter than it did before.

He would enjoy it while it lasted.

He just wished his chest would stop hurting.

ROTGOPROTGOP

It was amazing how quickly moods could change.

Ace sat beside Jack in the Guardians' guest room, trying to process what he had been told. The Spirits had spent the last few hours sharing what they could with their youngest member, and the fire-user's ears rang from all the information that had just been thrown at him. He could not pinpoint how a friendly discussion about how things were back on Earth had transformed into an argument about Christmas and Easter and which was better, or how that had turned into the Guardians telling him about their journeys on his world and how it was 'whacked and I hate it'— Bunny's words— but the Summer Spirit could barely keep up.

He had not written more than a couple words since entering the room, the conversation moving too quickly for him to interject with his own thoughts and opinion. It was weird. The Guardians and Jack were so at ease. Ace was too, compared to his normal anyway, and yet even now he felt out of place. Again. Maybe his unease stemmed from being relative strangers with most of the people he was with while Jack mingled seamlessly with his old friends, maybe it was his lingering discomfort about anything to do with Earth, or maybe it the exhaustion that still prodded at his thoughts, making them slow and sluggish.

Or perhaps it was the things the Guardians were not saying. During their discussion they paused. They began to say something and stopped. They changed words around or started over. Ace may have believed they were trying to avoid talking about certain things because it was not safe to speak of them here, but he knew they were not just keeping secrets for safety's sake.

Ace had enough time— and desire— to study the Guardians, taking in their every feature for the first time that was real. His nightmares had been surprisingly accurate, likely relying on Pitch's memories of his enemies to place near-perfect images of them in the Summer Spirit's nightmares. North really did have tattoos on his arms. Bunny really did have green eyes. Tooth's feathers really were turquoise, blue, green, and gold.

He had never met them before today, but there was one 'discrepancy' in their appearances that gave him pause, specifically on Tooth. In all of Jack's stories and all of Ace's nightmares, she never had a dagger. Swords, yes. But a dagger? No.

Ace was not dumb. Not really. He had heard the stories, especially the one about Pitch's first defeat at Nightlight's hands, a thousand times. He knew what the diamond blade he could just see peeking out of its sheath probably was. It was a moonbeam dagger, the type that could seal Pitch. In all of their stories, they did not mention it once, purposely avoiding talking about it even when showing him their other weapons.

The Summer Spirit was not supposed to notice, that much was obvious, but his paranoid state of mind made him see discrepancies others would fail to spot, because strange things that were out of place usually resulted in pain for him in his nightmares. By trying to distract Ace from the dagger, the Guardians had ensured he would take note of it, and naturally he came up with one conclusion for why they refused to tell him about the thing that could stop Pitch.

_They don't trust me. I already did something wrong._

It hurt. He should have expected it, but it still hurt. The perceived betrayal was only made worse that not even Jack had tried to tell him about the dagger, instead keeping his silence. In fact, the Winter Spirit seemed to be under the impression that Ace would be unobservant enough to not see it.

His doubts were coming back. He shoved them away for the millionth time. His vision swayed. His chest hurt.

Ace ignored it all. He had better things to do than wallow in self-pity. He listened as North vaguely explained about a 'special Snow Globe' he had, and suddenly the slight weight in the Summer Spirit's pocket seemed to be a lot heavier. His hand twitched but he could not bring himself to return the star-filled Globe to the Guardian of Wonder, instead sinking slowly into misery and self-doubt.

_They already don't trust me enough to tell me about the dagger. If I show them I have the starry Snow Globe, they'll think I stole it or something. But if I_ _**don't** _ _give it back and they find out I have it it's even more likely they'll think I intentionally took it…_

The tension in Ace's shoulders grew and he jumped when the Guardians of Hope and Wonder began belittling each other again— an hourly occurrence. The Summer Spirit was unable to crack a grin at their antics. So what if he was still uncomfortable and jumpy? So what if he could not summon the bravery or desire to return the Globe to North? So what if his vision was doubling again? So what if the Guardians did not trust him enough to tell him about the dagger? He. Was. Fine.

Jack cleared his throat. "Since Ace is here now and caught up, what else did you want to tell us?"

North glanced around, visibly hesitating, and then leaned forward. "Well—"

Two— Four? No, it was two— shapes crashed through the door. Ace shifted in front of Jack, ready to defend the Winter Spirit, only to lower his guard when he recognized Luffy and Sabo. He tensed up again when he heard the whisper of fire that always accompanied his blond-haired brother these days, but pushed his acute awareness of it into the 'ignore' pile. Sabo— who had landed on top of his smaller brother— stumbled to his feet first, face beet red as he noticed they had an audience.

"Hello!" he squeaked with an awkward wave, blue eyes flicking over the group. "You must be the Guardians. I'm Sabo, and this is Luffy."

The rubber man groaned. "Sabo's heavy."

Bunny gave a cough that sounded like he was covering a laugh. "You picked some real strange characters for your family, didn't you, Frostbite?" he muttered lowly.

Jack stepped on his foot.

Tooth pushed past them both, smiling brightly. "It's so nice to meet you. I'm Tooth."

"I guessed as much. Same to you." Sabo said, shaking her hand. He glanced over his shoulder at the open door nervously.

Luffy shifted his weight, hands clasped behind his back. "Hm."

Ace cringed internally. He had forgotten about the rubber pirate's… issues with the Spirits from Earth. At least Luffy was showing some restraint by not storming up to them and demanding to know why they had to 'take Ace'. The Summer Spirit looked down at his notebook, trying to think of a way to reassure his brother without revealing the portal that led to Earth, but he was not quick enough. The conversation moved on without him.

"So. Who are you hiding from?" Jack asked casually.

Sabo smiled innocently, though his blue eyes were wild. "No one."

Luffy pursed his lips, looking sideways suspiciously. The Winter Spirit sighed, keeping his glare on his youngest brother, and the rubber pirate began to sweat. Curious as well, Ace added his own neutral stare, and the Straw Hat Captain cracked.

"Gramps remembered his promise to train us." Luffy blurted.

Jack snorted. "Of course. Took him long enough. I'm surprised he didn't hunt you down sooner."

"I thought we were in the clear." Sabo lamented in a voice that would be a whine on a less… 'mature' individual. "It's been a week. Why did he decide  _now_?"

_It's_ _ **Gramps**_ , Ace thought.

"It's your crazy grandpa." Jack said, unknowingly echoing him. "What did you expect? A warning? A polite invitation?  _'Dearest rubber grandson and blond brat—_  '" The Winter Spirit put on a lofty accent. " _'—Please come to the island at nine o'clock sharp so I may pound you into mush. Many Fists of Love, Gramps.'_ "

Tooth, Bunny, and North chuckled. Luffy and Sabo looked horrified.

"That's not funny. You don't understand!" Luffy said, momentarily forgetting his beef with the Guardians. "Gramps is scary. He's going to kill us!"

The Guardians' mirth faded and they exchanged worried glances.

"Don't be over-dramatic. He won't kill you." Jack chuckled. "He'll just give you a few bumps on the head."

The Guardians' concern increased.

Animosity was completely forgotten when Luffy noticed. He flung himself at Bunny, clinging to the Pooka. "You gotta protect us!"

The Guardian of Hope's sympathy vanished like a snuffed-out candle. "Get. Off."

Luffy did not release him. Instead he wrapped himself around the poor Pooka, who snarled and tried to shove the rubber pirate away. Ace could not laugh at Bunny's misfortune. He put a hand to his aching chest, feeling as if he could not draw enough breath. His vision was blurring again.

"Ignore them, guys." Jack advised the Guardians. "They're just being babies. You survived Garp's training before, and you're stronger now than ever, so why are you acting like this is something new? You'll be fine. A bit black and blue, but fine."

Sabo gave the Winter Spirit a look of crestfallen betrayal. "How can you say that? I thought Guardians were supposed to protect children!" he said, almost hysterical.

Jack struggled to keep a straight face. "You're twenty-three. Luffy is almost twenty. You're adults, even though you don't act like it."

Ace barely held back a wince. His skin was beginning to feel clammy. Were his weeks without sleep finally catching up to him? His eyelids fluttered dangerously.

_Maybe I should rest my head against the wa— Don't do it._

Ace rubbed at his arms, resisting the urge to pinch himself into wakefulness.

Luffy gave a huff. "Fine. If you aren't going to hide us, we'll have to hide ourselves!"

The rubber pirate inched towards the door, peering out warily as he searched for Garp. The Winter Spirit looked ready to let him go with an amused grin on his face, only for his eyes to widen.

"Wait, Luffy." Jack said hurriedly. "I need to ask you something."

The rubber pirate backed into the room again, turning his head unnaturally. "What is it?"

"During the battle with Pitch, do you remember what happened when you were surrounded by Fearlings?" Jack questioned. "When Ace saved you?"

He glanced at the Summer Spirit, showing no signs of spotting his distress. Ace's head felt like a sledgehammer was being slammed into his skull, and he was finding it harder to focus.

_Oh, so_ _ **now**_ _you remember I exist_ , Ace snarled mentally. He instantly berated himself for his attitude.

Luffy squinted and put a finger to his forehead, trying to recall. "Kinda. I was out of it because a Fearling whacked me with something— seastone, maybe?— and everything was blurry. Why?"

"I'm just trying to solve a mystery." The Winter Spirit informed him, making the rubber pirate perk up in interest. "During the fight with Pitch, Ace was throwing around  _white_  flames. I saw him use them on some Fearlings when they were attacking Luffy. I couldn't see what they did, but when the fire vanished, the Fearlings were gone. Not burnt up and dissipated. Just… gone. And when he used it on Pitch…  _something_  happened. I'm trying to figure out what those flames were and what they did."

"So I  _was_  right." Bunny cut in. "Luffy was in the inferno, but he wasn't hurt by the 'white' fire."

Ace did not like the conversation they were having. Any of it. He did not want to be reminded of the battle with Pitch or anything that happened in it. But if Jack thought it was important, he supposed he should try to help find answers. He wrote in his notebook and went to tap Luffy's arm, but Tooth spoke before he could.

"What did the flames feel like? Were they hot? Did they hurt you?" the Fairy asked.

Even as he felt another bolt of hurt for being ignored—  _again_ — Ace prayed that the answer to the last question was 'no'. Sure, Luffy had no physical damage because of the strange white fire, but the Summer Spirit knew better than to think that meant the flames had not done something painful to his little brother. Especially since those same flames had made Pitch stumble about like he was having a heart attack.

"They didn't hurt me." Luffy said, alleviating the fire-user's fears. "I don' remember much but… there was this white light and I think I felt… warm?" He tipped his head, looking at Jack— not Ace. "It was like I was being hugged or wrapped in a blanket. I knew I was safe… but also like I was out at sea."

Sabo, Jack, and Ace's eyes went round. The three brothers fully understood what those words meant when coming from their youngest sibling. The Guardians were not so knowledgeable.

"What is the sea to you?" North asked.

Luffy did not hesitate to answer. "Freedom."

Tooth gave a small gasp. "I think I know what those flames were. They're like Jack's snowballs!"

Five pairs of eyes stared at her with varying degrees of confusion.

"Ace wasn't just created by Mother Nature." Tooth reminded them. "He was made a Spirit by Manny too. That means he's a potential Guardian, which means he gains abilities not only from Nature, but his  _center_."

Something in Ace seemed to break, and at first, he did not know why. A bolt of pain lanced through his chest and his expression twitched. No one noticed.

Comprehension dawned on Jack's face. "I think I understand. One of my…  _stranger_  abilities is to create snowballs that make people experience fun and joy when it hits them. That's not a power you'd expect a Winter Spirit to have, but I do because it comes from being the Guardian of Fun."

"And your snowballs work on Pitch, don't they?" Tooth added eagerly.

"They made him smile and laugh not-evilly once, yeah." Jack confirmed, excitement growing.

"So what does that mean for Ace?" Sabo questioned. "His white flames made Fearlings vanish, Pitch act weird, and Luffy feel like he was safe and on the sea. What's his 'center'?"

"It's freedom, of course." Luffy said like it was obvious.

They all beamed at each other, thrilled by their discoveries. They were all so caught up in the conversation, none of them noticed the empty expression that had overcome Ace's features. The Summer Spirit's stomach was a knotted mess again and the first tendrils of panic crept back into his limbs, making them feel stiff and cold. Ace knew he had been 'created' by the Man in the Moon and Mother Nature. He knew that he had to usher the season of summer around Earth. But the thought of being a Guardian had  _never_  crossed his mind.

The pain in his chest was growing.

When Ace's brain finally began to work again, a single thought formed.

_I can't be a Guardian._

For once, illogical fears were not the source of his self-depreciation. It was not simply insecurities that made him think such things, but harsh, cold facts. Ace could hardly begin to fathom being a Seasonal Spirit and all the duties that came along with it. Being a Guardian as well… it would be too much. He was not stable or strong enough to ever consider being a protector of children.

Dearest Manny, the  _children_. Sure, he used to be pretty good with kids, and maybe that was why Tsar Lunar chose him, but now… how could the others even consider letting him near such small beings? Children were strong in their own ways, but Ace should not be anywhere near them. He was an unstable, dangerous, immoral time-bomb just waiting to explode and traumatize children for life. Guardians were supposed to be pillars of strength, stability, and morality that kids could look up to, and Ace was none of those things. He lied. He cheated. He hated. He killed.

But that was not the worst part. That was not made his chest constrict painfully and his hands shake. Ace did not simply think he was unsuitable to be a Guardian. He knew, for a fact,  _that he did not want to be_.

Not that his opinion mattered.

The others were still talking, further discussing the 'white flames' and 'centers' and what Ace might be able to do with them. The fire-user tried to listen to their conversation but his mind refused to move on from 'potential Guardian'. The Guardians were heroes and he was the monster that stuck to the shadows and did what they would not. Sure, Ace would help if kids were in trouble, but doing so as an official Guardian…? How could the Summer Spirit be 'potential Guardian material'? They had to be out of their minds.

And they were still talking like his position as one of Manny's chosen was assured. They spoke like he already had a spot as one of them, like the Man in the Moon had already claimed him as one of his elite Spirits. None of them talked to Ace about it. None of them asked for his opinion about 'white flames' and 'centers' and being a 'potential Guardian'. None of them asked if he was okay with any of it, or if he even if he wanted to be a Guardian.

It was like he did not have a choice in the matter.

And it was making Ace angry.

_They say my center is freedom. Since when have I ever been 'free' to do anything I wanted? People always try to choose for me. They always try to control me. So many options were taken from me simply because I was the Pirate King's son. In the end, being a pirate was my only choice because most others would lead to my death if I was ever discovered. Gramps wanted me to be a Marine, not even considering that maybe I'd want to be something else. No. I_ _**would** _ _be a Marine. Whitebeard wanted me to be a part of his crew, not thinking that maybe I had more reason than wanting him dead to refuse. I promised my brother I would be free, and although I thought I found freedom with Oyaji, I did not truly have a choice. I_ _**would** _ _become part of his crew._

Ace's hands clenched into fists.  _Mother Nature made me into a Seasonal Spirit, when I could have become a lesser Nature Spirit that would not require me to go to Earth. But no. I_ _ **would**_ _be one of her Seasons. Tsar Lunar made me a_ _ **Guardian**_ _, apparently. Because no, my choices_ _ **don't**_ _matter. I don't get a choice. I'm going to be a Guardian in the future whether I want to be or not because he 'chose' me. If I refuse at first, the offer will 'remain open' because in the end, I'll give in and join up, just like Jack did._

His body was beginning to feel hot, ferocious, untamed heat spreading throughout his skin.  _It's even worse now than before. Do this, Ace. Don't do that, Ace. You're sick, Ace so you can't do these things. Ace, you can't go there because you're a stupid nutcase and can't be trusted to not fall overboard. Stop blaming yourself, Ace. Stop feeling bad, Ace. We're going everywhere with you, Ace, because you aren't allowed to be alone. You aren't allowed to do this, either. Or this. Or this or_ _ **this**_ _—_

Ace only noticed he had burst into flames when Luffy yelped and scrambled away from him. The fire covered his skin like armor or a shield, roaring and snarling angrily as it manifested from his rage. It did not stretch out much, only extending to a couple inches over his skin, but the heat was enough to send most of the other occupants of the room scurrying backwards. The Summer Spirit glared straight ahead, eyes glowing like miniature suns and a furious snarl on his face.

_Like_ _**hell** _ _I'm a 'potential Guardian'. I don't want to be a Guardian or Seasonal Spirit. I don't want to be a Whitebeard Pirate or the Pirate King's son. I want to be_ _**Ace** _ _. I want to be what_ _**I** _ _**want to be** _ _. I'm not some_ _**damn** _ _child that can be forced to join your club. I'm not some mindless pawn that you can pass around from group to group. I am sick and tired of old geezers that think that they can control my life._ _**They don't get to take my freedom away from me!** _

All Ace could see was flames. Orange flickered over his vision, accompanied by white, and the sight of the lighter color only enraged him further. He did not have a 'center'. He was  _not going to be a Guardian,_   _dammit_. A small part of him whispered that his anger was dangerous and illogical, and while the Summer Spirit agreed, he refused to try to smother it.

Instead he took off, the anger still boiling within, and ignored every person that called out to him. A wind blew before him, shoving away anyone who foolishly tried to approach, and he stormed onto the deck with none opposing him.

Ace looked up at the night sky and gritted his teeth.  _Screw it._

He shot into the sky, tuning out the panicked shouts that followed him. The Summer Spirit flew as fast as he could, trying to put as much distance between himself and the ships as possible. He did not have a destination or plan. He did not falter, slow, or think about the consequences of what he was doing. His head hurt. His body ached. His chest burned. Heat should not hurt Ace but the fire he could feel inside was unbearable, as if Akainu was attempting to rip out his heart. He needed to get far away. Far, far away.

So he flew and flew until he was certain none were following him or would reach him and be consumed by the inferno. The sky was growing gloomier, turning from a star-filled dark blue to black, and the fire-user closed his eyes, feeling the wind pick up. It hit his face, eager and angry and wild, and after one final scan of the sea that was empty except for a small rocky island, Ace exhaled.

Then he  _screamed_.

No sound came from the Summer Spirit. Instead, the weather screamed for him. The wind became a gale. Lightning ripped through the sky. Fire and water poured from the clouds, striking the ocean like bullets and making the water churn like a furious beast. Ace threw out his arms, targeting the water, and the next lightning strike was so strong it seemed to split the sea apart. He did not know if he was venting out his frustrations, screaming in anguish, or throwing one of the most colossal hissy fits in history, but Ace did not care. He  _could not care_.

The sea writhed, small waves growing into tsunamis, but Ace kept his savage control over the storm, pushing the water away from the direction of the ships and breaking the waves apart with the wind. The island below him weathered away, piece by piece, unable to stand before the might of his power. The Summer Spirit screamed and shrieked and laughed without noise, the wind and lightning acting as his voice, and basked in the chaos and destruction he wrought.

Mother Nature did not order him to do this. Tsar Lunar could not command him to stop. Ace had not conjured it out of fear, or to protect someone, but because he wanted to, because  _he_  chose to. This was his storm. He had created it. He wielded it.  _He_  was the one in control.

There were none around to be caught up in it, so the Summer Spirit let loose, releasing all the rage that he could. The need to destroy, to scream, to show his fury to the world overcame him and his fire  _roared_ , turning into a cyclone of anger and death.

He spotted white amongst the flickers of orange flames. According to the Guardians, it probably came from his  _center_. His center, which was freedom, yet doomed him to become one of the Man in the Moon's Guardians.

The laughing stopped. The screaming stopped. The storm faded as well.

The fire stayed. Orange and white.

Ace glared at it, willing it to cease. He wanted it gone. He wanted it out of his sight. The tornado it created vanished, but the flames surrounding his body refused to fade.

He despised them. He hated them for what they represented. He wanted them to  _die_.

Ace forcibly smothered the cursed white flames and plunged from the sky, landing hard on the remnants of the stone island. Agony tore through his chest and he would have howled in pain if he could. As it was, he clawed at his own flesh like doing so would remove all the unwanted curses in his skin. He writhed and rolled and scratched like a man possessed, but the fire and the sand refused to leave. He was still poisoned. He was still a Nature Spirit. He was still a future Guardian.

Eventually Ace sank to the ground, covered his face, and wept uncontrollably. He felt the moonlight shining on him and curled up into a tighter ball, shuddering. Why was it breaking through the clouds? Why was it on him? Why could it not leave him  _alone_ , in peace?

_I'm not yours!_  Ace thought, wishing he could scream the words at the distant moon.  _I'm not your Spirit. I'm not your child. I'm not your Guardian! I'm. Not._ _ **Yours!**_

It just did not make sense. How was he supposed to have 'freedom' as his center when he was practically a servant or prisoner of every party that had an interest in him? He was expected to become a Season for Mother Nature. He was 'chosen' to be a Guardian one day, whether he wanted to or not. Whenever he slept, he was at Pitch's mercy, unable to escape the prison that was his nightmares any more than he could escape Impel Down.

He did not want to live like that.

He just wanted to be  _free_.

Freedom. Ace's  _center_. His stupid 'potential Guardian' center.

Ace smiled, the expression unnatural and broken and not even close to reaching his eyes.  _Yeah, that makes_ _ **so**_ _much sense. I'm_ _ **such**_ _a great representation of freedom. What a joke. I'm not free. I've never been free. I'll never be free. When I was alive, my father's legacy shackled me. When I became a Spirit, my matriarch and patriarch bound me. Even now, I do not have the freedom to sleep because Pitch and fears control my dreams. I don't have any options._

_But I_ _ **do**_ _have another option_ , the coldest part of his mind whispered.  _There's one way to escape all of their plans for me. It would be selfish, but also selfless, because it would help so many of my friends in the long run._

Ace shrank away from that line of thought, even now. There had to be another way. He could not be so selfish and abandon his loved ones like that. But if he was dead, no one would be able to force him to do anything  _ever again_. Mother Nature would not need him. Tsar Lunar would not want him. Pitch would not torment him anymore.

Ace's eyes dropped to the black marks on his wrists and his shattered grin widened so much his cheeks hurt. His thoughts were wrong. He still had a chance to escape one of his fates. He could still try to remove the sand. There were no babysitters, no shadows, and no Pitch to stop him this time.

The Summer Spirit did not hesitate to rip the bandages off his forearms, staring hatefully at the poison visible in his flesh. He had to get it out. He  _would_  get it out. It was the reason why he was like this. It was to blame for how weak he had become. Maybe once the sand was gone, he would return to who he once was, and be confident and strong enough to tell the Man in the Moon to take his offer and shove it.

Ace did not have extra bandages, a bucket, or a way to alert anyone if he was in trouble. He did not have a carefully laid out plan or a premeditated series of steps to follow. He did not care. He had a scalpel and that was all he needed for his operation.

The first line Ace carved in his forearm was small and shallow, barely longer than an inch. A small bit of red and black trickled out, dripping down his left wrist. It was not enough. It was not nearly enough. He made another cut, grimacing, and watched his blood fall onto the stone. Ace made a third slice, longer, deeper. More crimson fell. More black. He started feeling a little lightheaded but ignored it, scoffing at his own weakness. The sight of blood never frightened him, so it should not now. He needed to stop being a coward and do what needed to be done.

The next slit— on his right arm this time— went deeper then Ace intended. He grunted, flinching, and nicked his arm again on accident, gouging a jagged line up the side of his wrist. It was beginning to hurt, the slight stinging sensation becoming genuine agony. The Summer Spirit wheezed raggedly, refusing to cry because of a little bit of pain, and lifted his arm, angrily wiping at the blood in an attempt to see the marks. The sand hardly seemed affected, barely any lines vanishing as he drained it from his flesh.

It  _was not working_. There was too much sand. If he had tried earlier, before Pitch's attack, he might have succeeded, but now the sand was streaked up his arms, down his legs, and on his shoulders and stomach once more. He would not be able to remove it without bleeding out at this rate. Despair gripped Ace's heart, colder than the harshest part of winter, and with a soundless howl he dragged the scalpel up his arm, cutting up the stitches from his old injury along with his forearm.

_Still not enough. I'm not even close to being free of this. I will_ _**never** _ _be free._

Sandy might be able to remove the sand, but it was not a certainty. Truthfully, Ace would most likely die from the poison, like Pitch promised he would. It was such a slow, unnecessary way to die, and all it was doing was dragging others down with him. The others did not seem to realize he was fading, that he would fail. They did not seem to know the sand was as good as a death sentence. But Ace knew. He knew that staying with his friends and making them watch him crumble was probably the most selfish thing he could do.

Without fully realizing what he was doing, Ace slowly lifted the scalpel, putting it to his own throat. He could feel his heart pounding, pushing cursed blood through his veins, and despised it for continuing to beat and keep him trapped in his painful second life. He could feel blood and sand trickling down his arms and mentally recoiled, despising the vile substances all the more.

_If I do it, I'll be free. Free of the sand, my fears, my broken mind, and_ _**their** _ _intentions for me. Then my friends will be free to finally move on._ _**They'll** _ _be free of_ _**me** _ _. I won't hold them back anymore. They won't have to care about me or waste time for me anymore. I won't burden them and they'll finally be able to live their lives._ _**Do it.** _

Ace's hands would not move. He tried to force them, to drag the scalpel across his throat, but his limbs refused to follow his commands, remaining paralyzed. His arms shook, and the sharp tool nicked his neck, causing a bolt of pain. The Summer Spirit gasped, dropping the scalpel on instinct, and it fell onto the rock, clattering loudly as it landed in the pool of crimson and black.

Ace stared at it, gaze locked on the red splattered all over the once-clean blade. His shoulders quaked and he began laughing again. Laughing and sobbing, feeling his heart tear into shreds, with only the Moon around to witness his breakdown. He could not even do  _this_. He was not strong enough.

The Summer Spirit tilted his head back, staring at the serene orb floating in the sky, and although he knew it was not the Man in the Moon's home, he still directed his thoughts at it like Tsar Lunar could hear him.

_Why?_  he thought.  _Why did you have to bring me back?_

The moonlight shifted.

Ace stiffened as he watched it move and dance, words translating themselves in his mind without him knowing how. The Moon was speaking to him. He was  _apologizing_. Tsar Lunar apologized for not speaking to him before. He apologized for upsetting him, and not considering if he wanted to be a Guardian. But most importantly, he apologized for making the Summer Spirit believe his freedom was being taken from him.

Ace let his gaze drop to the stone he perched upon once more.  _Can you take my powers away?_   _Can you turn me back into a human? Please?_

The Moon, either hearing his wish somehow or guessing what it was, said he could not reverse the transformation that turned Ace into a Spirit. That was beyond his power, or anyone's for that matter, and the fire-user would remain the Spirit of Summer until he died, if he ever did at all.

Tsar Lunar admitted that he did not think of Ace's feelings or thoughts when he and Mother Nature turned him into the Spirit of Summer. He only thought about Jack and what would make the Winter Spirit happy, while Emily Jane saw a strong soul that she thought was worthy of controlling a Season. They did not think about his own wishes, or what he would be forced to do and leave behind because of their influence.

But that did not mean that Ace did not have the power to control his own fate. It was true that Ace did not choose to become a Spirit. It was true that he could not refuse to shepherd summer on Earth. However, Manny could grant him  _one_  choice.

The Man in the Moon promised he would not pick the Summer Spirit to become a Guardian. Instead, if Ace wished it one day, he could ask the Moon if he could join. He could choose if he wanted to be a Guardian, because  _he_  wanted to be one, not because the Moon appointed him. It was all Tsar Lunar could offer, that one choice among the many that Ace never had.

Ace's center was freedom for a reason. Although some paths were out of his reach, there were many more he could still follow. Some foes he could not beat, but many others could be fought. His center came from the ability to act, fight, choose, speak, and think as he wanted, unrestrained by the wills and whims of others. Tsar Lunar guessed that, but he tried to cage Ace anyway, tried to keep him from being able to do what he desired by his own merit.

If he asked Ace to become a Guardian, he would feel obligated to. His ability to choose his own path would be taken. That would be like Manny forcing Jack not to have fun, or Bunny to not have hope, or Sandy to not give dreams. It was not his right to interfere with a Spirit's center, and so the choice would be Ace's alone. If he wished to become a Guardian, he could ask. If he did not, he was not bound to.

It was the best Tsar Lunar could offer given the circumstances of the Summer Spirit's rebirth… and it may be enough. There were many things out of Ace's control, but some decisions could still be his.

Ace was a Spirit of Earth, and Mother Nature's Summer, and Pitch's prisoner whenever he slept, but he did not have to be Manny's Guardian. Not if he did not wish to be.

The Moon grew silent. Ace could not begin to guess if it was because whatever he had done to communicate with the Summer Spirit after so long without talking had finally worn out, or Tsar Lunar simply had nothing else to say. Manny's words raced around Ace's head, gently asserting themselves in his mind, and the fire-user never felt more lost and alone.

Could it really be that easy?

Did the Man in the Moon truly mean his offer, or was he simply trying to prevent his potential Guardian from ending his life?

Ace's gaze returned to the bloody scalpel and his wrists and he trembled. Comprehension was slow in coming, but he began to understand what he had done, and intended to do. And yet it did not scare him. In fact, he still was not certain he wanted to stay, to  _live_. He was still bound to Earth. He was still corrupted by the sand. He was still a burden, and so many terrible things were still his fault.

Life was hard, and a constant uphill battle, and he was not sure he had the strength to fight for it anymore. He'd hurt himself. He had mutilated his own flesh under the guise of getting the sand out, when maybe he was actually hoping he would nick something important and die. The realization hurt, more than his wrists ever could, and the shame made Ace want to pick up the scalpel in order to escape the consequences he knew would come. But that would be the cowardly and cruel way out.

Even now, he could not end his life.

He could not do that to his brothers. He could not hurt them like that. The gashes on his wrists would already cause them grief— and Ace was a fool for believing otherwise— but he could not find the apathy to cast them aside and abandon them completely. They were his brothers, and loved him, and wanted him to live.

Maybe he should stop being selfish while pretending to be selfless, and want to live too.

Ace threw the scalpel into the sea, watching it sink below the waves. It left red streaks in its wake, which quickly dissipated in the large body of water. His heart grew less heavy, even though his wounds stung, and he shut his eyes, exhaling slowly.

_I— I almost— I_ _**tried to—** _

Ace put a hand to his mouth, overcome by remorse and guilt. He had made a mistake. He had made so many mistakes. There would be consequences, and anger, and tears, but the Summer Spirit knew there was one more possible mistake to make before he faced his brothers.

His eyes slipped closed and he forced them open, fighting against the exhaustion— or unconsciousness— that sought to claim him. Ace had to go back. He had to return to his brothers, reveal what he had done, and beg for forgiveness. He tried to lift himself off the stone but his limbs would not support his weight. The fire-user struggled but soon gave up, laying his head back on his lonely perch. His vision winked in and out and he slowly acknowledged he was falling unconscious. The instinctive urge to fight struck him but it was soon torn away by the thought that had been nagging him, one that came to him eagerly now that his mind was less dark and muddled.

If Ace's center was Freedom… he might be able to free himself of black sand. And not through his more questionable methods. The black sand was a poison. It was a curse. It lay within his skin, dictating and controlling his life. If not for Mother Nature's failsafe, Ace would be a Fearling, one of Pitch's slaves. Because of the sand, he was forced into nightmares whenever he slept. The sand was chaining him, preventing him from living his life and hindering him so he could not experience true freedom.

The thought angered Ace. Defiance trickled through his skin, warming his heart and clearing his mind, and he understood. He knew what he could do. He knew what he  _had_  to do. His brothers would disagree. They would delay, and protest, and deny, but the Summer Spirit knew he was right. He knew he could do it.

It was becoming harder to stay awake, his injuries and lack of sleep consuming him at last. But he was not afraid. Not this time. When Ace fell asleep again he would not drift helplessly through nightmares hope the sand would let him return to the real world. This time, he would  _make_  the sand release him. But he also would not simply shove it away and pretend it did not exist.

He would face it. He would destroy it. He would purge it from his skin.

He was Ace. He was a Spirit. He was Summer. He was freedom.

The black sand hindered that freedom.

His  _fears_  hindered that freedom.

Ace would not bow to his fears anymore.

_Never again_.

For the first time in hours, days, weeks,  _months_  Ace relaxed, letting go of his frantic grip on consciousness. His exhaustion pounced, ready to devour him, and the fire-user welcomed its embrace with open arms. His arms fell to his sides, his vision faded out, and for a moment, the Summer Spirit teetered on the edge of consciousness. He distantly heard Jack screaming his name.

Ace wondered if he had just made one final— fatal— mistake.

And then the darkness claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mood whiplash is real in this one, and for the most part it was intentional. At first, this was two chapters, but I put them together because the original ending made it feel incomplete. I also wanted to show Ace's final swan dive in one chapter. So I combined the two and left you with a cliffie instead of a hope spot that would be ground to dust in the next week. Aren't I the nicest?
> 
> And so Ace's existential crisis comes to a head. He finally showed all that anger and grief to the world, and boy was it about time. I warned you all that suppressing was going to cause an explosion. Ace fooled himself into thinking he was fine, but he really wasn't, and the stress kept building. Yet another choice was taken from him, and Ace could not hold it in anymore. The news that he was expected to become a Guardian was the straw that broke the camel's back.
> 
> Believing his freedom was going to be taken away, (even more than it already has) caused him to lose his mental battle at last and finally break down. His control snapped and he went into a fiery rage, before crumbling like a dying star or a fire without anything to keep it lit. Luckily, Manny gave him something to hold onto and reignite his flame. He gave Ace a choice, and more importantly, promised him the freedom to choose. It was enough to pull Ace away from the edge, though not enough to stop him from falling unconscious again at last.
> 
> The next few chapters were planned ever since Ace got infected with the black sand. I can't wait for you to read them.


	37. Facing Fears

Why did the ocean have to be so big? The endless expanse of blue was no longer wondrous in Jack's mind, instead becoming as frustrating, unwanted, and uninviting as a maze. The Winter Spirit flew as fast as he could, constantly spinning and scouring the area around him in search of Ace, but the only other person that seemed to exist near him was Tooth. The Guardians carefully stayed on course, never drifting too far to the left or right, hoping that they were still heading close to the right direction. Towards Ace. They had seen the storm the Summer Spirit created, but it vanished long before they could reach him, leaving them to flit about near-aimlessly and pray that they could still locate the fire-user.

Jack could not understand how things had ended up like this. Ace had seemed fine. He had not been taking part in the conversation between Jack, the Guardians, and Luffy and Sabo once the two showed up, but being a listener more than a 'talker' had become the Summer Spirit's default role as of late. From the Winter Spirit's point of view, Ace had been calmly following along with their conversation about Guardians and centers before exploding randomly. Though to be honest, Jack doubted that was the case.

He had been so excited to potentially figure out what those white flames were and what they could mean that he had not thought to ask Ace about his own opinions, instead grilling Luffy and the Guardians for more information. The Winter Spirit had not truly considered that the fire-user could become a Guardian someday, and was overcome by joy and pride at the thought of his little brother joining the elite group of Spirits. He should have known better. He knew Ace  _better_  than that.

If Jack's theory about the white flames was correct, Ace's center was freedom. That made sense. The fire-user adored the idea of limitlessness and being able to make his own decisions in life. He chose to be a pirate. He wished to be free of his father's legacy. He decided who would be his family and brothers. Ace was not exactly one to seek freedom for everyone, but he sought it for himself and those closest to him.

And others wanted to take those choices— that freedom— away from him.

Jack could see it all so clearly now, and wished he had gained such clarity sooner. Ace was going to be forced to go to Earth. No choice. He had to leave his family. No choice. He was going to work for Mother Nature. No choice. He would be appointed as a Guardian, because of course all of Manny's chosen joined his team of Spirits. No choice. They might as well be clapping manacles around his wrists before they dragged him through the portal. Before Pitch got Ace with the black sand, those restraints might not have bothered the Summer Spirit so much, but now— when he was struggling and dependent on others and was already dealing with much more than anyone could hope to handle— the realization broke him.

So Ace fled— and Jack had to admire his brother's control, for even now he made sure to get away so his anger could not harm his loved ones— and finally let all the emotions and thoughts he had been shoving away out. The Winter Spirit would not be so worried about it if not for what he feared might come after. That was why he and Tooth were soaring over the open sea, frantically searching for their missing Summer Spirit.

"Do you see him?" Jack called to the Guardian of Memories.

The Fairy shook her head. She swooped closer to Jack, adjusting her wings so she was not thrown off course by the Wind swirling around the Winter Spirit.

"Are we still going the right way?" she asked.

Jack glanced at the moon, taking in its position. He really wished it was daylight, though he was grateful the moon and stars were providing some light for them to see by.

"I think so." He said, sounding more confident then he felt.

Tooth bit her lip, her pink eyes almost gleaming in the darkness. "Maybe we should—"

"We're not going back." Jack interrupted firmly. "We'll find him…"

He trailed off, eyes widening as light shone from the darkness. For a moment, he thought they had run into ship or something, only to realize the light came from the sky, shining down on something. It only took an instant for Jack to recognize the gentle beams.

_Manny?_

Without so much as a glance at each other, Jack and Tooth shot in the direction of the shifting moonlight. The ice-user wondered how and why the Man in the Moon was communicating with them now after so long of being silent on this world, but pushed those questions away, urging the Wind to carry him faster. It obliged and the Winter Spirit overtook the Guardian of Memories, soaring towards the moonlight like a bullet.

The first thing he noticed was the rocky outcrop that stuck out above the waves. The second thing he noticed was the person lying on said rocks. The third thing he noticed was the red splattered on the stone.

Jack forgot how to breathe. His lungs stopped working. His mind went blank. His body grew numb. For a moment, the Wind kept him aloft, drifting above the ocean, above the sight that made his heart turn to ice in his chest. Then he plunged.

" _ACE!_ "

The Winter Spirit crashed beside his unmoving brother, bashing his knee on the rock as he landed. Jack ignored the stinging pain, scrambling over to Ace, horrified eyes taking in the bloody gashes on the fire-user's skin. His mind tried to register what those cuts meant and tell him what had likely happened, but his brain rejected the information again and again, refusing to even consider such a thing.

What mattered was Ace was hurt. Ace was unconscious. Ace was bleeding bleeding  _bleeding_ —

Without hesitation, Jack tore off his blue hoodie, leaving him with only the whitish shirt he wore underneath, and ripped the sweatshirt into strips. He used the fabric to wrap Ace's wounds, body going on autopilot while his mind remained trapped in a panicked— but distant— loop. He heard Tooth arrive when she gasped.

"Dear Manny…" the Fairy whispered, hands over her mouth.

Jack tied another strip around one of the worst wounds on Ace's arm, hands surprisingly steady. Then he paused, eyes darting from the blood, to Ace, to his brother's wrists, to his own hands. His bloody fingers twitched.

Tooth put a hand on his arm. "Jack—"

"Bay." Jack blurted, voice strange and echoing in his head, like he was hearing it from down a long corridor. "We have to get him to Bay?"

It came out as a question. Something tried to squeeze Jack's chest and choke him but he ignored it, struggling to pick up Ace. The fire-user was a dea— a heavy weight in his arms, limp and unresponsive, and Jack felt something cold settle around his heart. Tooth moved as if to help him but the Winter Spirit backed away from her, clutching his brother to his chest.

"I have him." He said roughly, and took to the sky.

He barely made it a couple yards before he froze in midair.  _Which way did we come from?_

Jack turned his head rapidly, making his neck hurt in the process, but could not recall where the Moby Dick was. The squeezing feeling returned, twice as strong, and he clenched his fists, accidentally, pinching Ace's skin. The fire-user did not so much as twitch. Tooth ascended next to the Winter Spirit, face pale and something clutched in her hand.

"This fell out of your pocket."

Jack stared at the piece of paper she held blankly. It was twitching, pointing to the East. Memory struck and he inhaled sharply.  _That's Sabo's Vivre Card._

"Follow it." He said sharply, and flew in the direction it pointed, towards Sabo and the Moby Dick and help.

Tooth wasted no time in flying after him, confused but unwilling to question him. Jack's heartbeat was getting faster, as was his breathing, but he did not let it affect him. Not yet. Not  _yet_. Jack slammed onto the Moby Dick's deck more than landed on it, startling a couple pirates. Not waiting for them to even register who he was holding, the Winter Spirit turned to the closest one.

" _Get Bay!_ "

The pirate fled, and the rest burst into motion, gasping, shouting, and crowding the Spirits as they finally comprehended what they were seeing.

"Ace!"

"What happened?"

"Oh my Oda…"

"Did he get attacked?"

"Is that  _blood?_ "

"Someone find Marco!"

"Not again…"

"Where's Bay?"

Tooth took the initiative to stand between Jack, Ace, and the pirates, hands raised as she tried to keep the mob from smothering the two. Luckily, Bay arrived, and the men and women willingly scattered before her. The doctor barely took a second to take in the situation before she was at Ace's side, snapping at the nurses that came with her.

"Get him on the stretcher. Sage, prep a blood transfusion and clear the operation room." She ordered.

The nurse in question rushed to do as she commanded, and the doctor reached for Ace. It took all of Jack's willpower to go against his instincts to shield his brother and stop her from taking him, instead prying his fingers away from Ace's arms one by one. The Winter Spirit blinked and Ace and the doctors were gone, rushing for the infirmary. Jack sat on the deck for a long time, unable to move, staring at his hands again. Then arms wrapped around him and the wall he created broke down, the thoughts and feelings he had been ignoring rushing to the surface.

_Ace slit his wrists. He hurt himself. Why? Why?_ _**Why?** _

The Guardian wanted to believe that the fire-user had been attacked again, but knew he was reaching for an alternative to the horrific truth he could not deny. He didn't understand though. He could not understand. Ace would not do this. And yet he had. Jack's thoughts must still be muddled because was too shocked to cry, but the person holding him— Luffy?— possibly was. The Winter Spirit could feel the Straw Hat Pirate shaking, the movement accompanied by undignified sniffles. He distantly questioned why his youngest brother was not saying anything, only for the sobbing to become rapid and high-pitched, suggesting hyperventilation. Jack twisted in Luffy's arms and embraced his brother.

"Ace got hurt." Luffy rambled. "I saw them bring him in. He got hurt and they won't let me near him or tell me what's going on."

Jack went to pat his black hair consolingly, only to catch sight of the blood on his hands again. He stood up, dragging Luffy with him, and detachedly pushed his little brother at the closest person he saw— who happened to be Sanji. The cook caught his babbling Captain and did not object when he was subjected to a crushing embrace. The Winter Spirit idly noted that the blond-haired Straw Hat was pale. He also wondered just how long he had zoned out for but pushed that thought away.

"I have to clean up." The Guardian mumbled, wandering past the vague figures that might be people and heading below deck.

Jack entered the bathroom and robotically washed his hands, watching the crimson trickle down the drain. It came off easily, even with little soap, but the Winter Spirit could still feel the stickiness on his skin. He exhaled shakily and swallowed, getting more soap and scrubbing furiously at his palms. He could not see any more red but it was still there. He still felt the nauseating sensation of it. He'd had Ace's blood on his hands and it needed to be gone it needed to go away  _why wouldn't it go away—?_

A large hand reached over and turned off the water. Jack looked into the mirror, meeting concerned blue eyes.

_Tooth must have sent him. Huh._

He forced a smile. "Rude, North. I was using that."

The Cossack did not say anything.

Jack looked back at his hands, noticing they were raw from scrubbing, and let his gaze drift to his white shirt. "Bet you never knew I had this, huh? I'm surprised it hasn't rotted yet. It's like, a hundred years old. That hoodie was pretty old too. It was at least thirty. What about your stuff? You've had that coat forever. Do we have some power that keeps our clothes from rotting? That'd be pretty handy. If we figure out how to apply it to stuff we could open a business and make a lot of money. We'd have to work on stains though. Our clothes can get stained by things like blood and—"

Jack spoke faster and faster, voice heightening in pitch as he rambled, only to cut himself off when North pulled him into a hug. The Winter Spirit leaned his head against the Cossack's chest, staring at the mirror like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He took in North's solemn reflection, and his own confused, hoodie-less image… and watched tears well up in his eyes.

"Why?" he asked, voice cracking. "Why did Ace do that?"

North's embrace tightened. "I do not know. You will have to ask him once he wakes up."

" _If_  he wakes up. He was hurt badly and Pitch has him now." Jack said. He instantly regretted the words. The tears burned his eyes but did not fall, even when he closed them. "This is my fault. I should have noticed something was wrong."

North released him, putting his hands on the Winter Spirit's shoulders. "Lamenting about 'what ifs' is pointless. You should focus on the now, and what can be done in the future."

Shock and grief were engulfed by a simmering rage, and Jack shoved the Cossack away. "How can I  _not_  focus on 'what ifs'? I was so busy being caught up in my own little world that I didn't notice when my brother was freaking out right next to me!"

He could feel ice forming over his skin and hair like armor, cold but oddly welcome. Jack found himself wishing for the cool detachment and apathy of his element, preferring emotionlessness to the pain that still lingered in his chest, and the ice covering him seemed to thicken. Something close to alarm flashed through North's expression, vanishing quickly.

"Such thoughts will only hurt you, Jack." The Cossack warned softly.

"Stop that! This isn't about me!" Jack snapped, voice rising. "Just— Just  _stop_  trying to console me!  _Ace_  is the one who's hurt.  _He's_  the one who needs help, and advice, and— and who tried to—"

An uncomfortable cough interrupted him. Thatch stood awkwardly in the doorway, eyes darting between the two Guardians. His eyes settled on Jack though his irises flicked towards North on occasion. It was almost like the chef was trying not to stare at the Cossack.

"Bay's finally letting people within twenty feet of the med bay door." The Fourth Division Commander said. "How about we go wait?"

The cheer in his voice was blatantly forced, but Jack did not have the heart to call him out on it. He and North silently follow the chef to the area outside the infirmary. Chairs had been set up along the hall, turning it into an impromptu waiting room. Luffy and Sabo were already there, along with the other Guardians, a couple more Commanders, Garp, and an exhausted-looking Marco. Jack sat heavily in the empty seat between his brothers.

Two pieces of paper were shoved into his hands and the Winter Spirit stared at them uncomprehendingly, looking up and meeting the Phoenix's tired green-tinted eyes. It must be the lighting, but they looked more yellow than usual. Marco held his gaze, arm twitching slightly like he wanted to say something or place a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder, only to change his mind.

"Tooth told me about you almost getting lost." Marco said shortly. "Sabo was about to go after you both. Those are mine and Thatch's so you can get back here in case you need to leave again." His eyes grew shadowed. "I'm not going anywhere."

The explanation was disjointed and stilted but Jack appreciated the sentiment. He was not currently in the mood for niceties as well so he understood and accepted the Phoenix's distant delivery of his reasons. He nodded in thanks and gripped the new Vivre Cards tightly. Seeing his dilemma, North handed him a small pouch that he could clip to his waistband. Again, Jack nodded his thanks and put the papers in the bag, trying not to think about his hoodie.

He noticed Marco was still staring at him intently, but the Phoenix broke eye contact when he saw Jack looking. The Winter Spirit mentally shrugged and settled back for a long wait. Naturally, Luffy could not remain quiet for long.

"What happened?" the Straw Hat Captain asked Jack directly. "Ace left and got hurt, but Tooth won't tell me how or who did it."

The Winter Spirit glanced at the Guardian of Memories, who avoided his eyes. Her skin was ashen and her hands were entwined tightly in her lap. Jack's eyes moved to Sabo and he immediately saw the shock, hollowness, and anger in the Revolutionary's expression. He wondered if Sabo had seen Ace's wounds before he was whisked away or if he had made an educated guess.

"So do you know who did this?" Luffy pressed, growing impatient. "Who attacked Ace?"

Jack could not find the words or strength to tell him.

Sabo had no such qualms. "No one attacked him, Luffy." The Revolutionary said tonelessly. "Ace tried to kill himself."

The rubber pirate's expression went unnervingly blank, mouth falling open in a way that reminded Jack horribly of Marineford. A few seats down, Garp's fists clenched and began to shake.

"We don't know that." The Winter Spirit said instantly.

Sabo looked him with turbulent blue eyes. "I saw Ace's injuries. He slashed his wrists again."

 _Again?_   Jack thought, confused. "He's never—"

The Revolutionary raised a hand to stop him. " _Don't_. Don't make excuses for him." "He— He's so  _stupid!_ " Sabo's voice lowered and began to shake but remained eerily calm. He sounded tired rather than angry, and that apathy just made his words worse. "Ace has always seen his life as worthless. His entire purpose for living was to see if he should have been born. After everything he went through— which ground the last of his pitiful self-worth into dust— are you  _really_  surprised he decided to leave us all and off himse—?"

Jack spun in his seat and punched the Revolutionary in the face. Koala caught Sabo as he fell backwards into her arms, and Bunny lunged for the Winter Spirit, holding him back so he did not attack the blond-haired Logia again. Jack's fists shook with rage, the anger and iciness returning full force. The Pooka's grip on him tightened and he spoke before the enraged Guardian of Fun could.

"Let's all just calm down here." Bunny said levelly. "There's no reason to fight. None of us really know what happened to Ace. Things might not be as they seem, and we should keep from speculating until he wakes up to give us some answers." He pinned the two brothers with a fierce glare. "He'd be upset if he heard about you two coming to blows over him."

Sabo straightened in his seat, cradling his cheek where Jack decked him. His blue eyes were still rather hollow but the emptiness was not enough to hide the hurt and sadness lingering underneath.

"I think he's too busy being unconscious to be upset about that." He said, not sounding the slightest bit angry or bitter.

Jack felt the urge to slug Sabo again, even as his brotherly side acknowledged that the Revolutionary was just lashing out due to distress. He settled for turning away from Sabo and leaning back in his chair, focused completely on the door. As an uneasy silence fell over them all, his thoughts finally cleared and he shuddered.

Bunny was right. They did not know the whole story, and they might be jumping to conclusions. They had to wait for Ace to wake up and explain himself. But that did not mean Jack was completely ignorant.

Ace had gotten upset and run away. He had been found alone on a rocky island in the middle of nowhere and was injured. He was now unconscious, which meant he was currently having nightmares even as the doctors tried to save him. Jack's anger dwindled and he put his head in his hands, his fear about what Ace had possibly done and what it could mean being replaced by fear for his brother's mental safety.

_What is Ace experiencing right now? Whatever it is, it can't be good. Pitch was pissed the last time we fought, and I have no doubt he's taking it out on Ace right now. The doctors are trying to save Ace from blood loss, but will it even matter? At best, the nightmares will make his mentality worse than before, at worst it could kill him. He's not only fighting his wounds, but the sand too. What if he isn't strong enough? What if he doesn't survive… Or what if he doesn't_ _**want to?** _

Jack aborted that line of thought, moving his hands upward to grip his hair.  _No. That won't happen. If Ace still wanted to die he would be dead already. I have to trust that he regretted what he did. I have to have faith that he still wants to live. If he had really given up, he would let the sand kill him, regardless of the doctor's efforts._

The thought gave Jack hope and he raised his head, continuing to stare at the closed door between himself and his struggling brother.

_Despite what he might or might not have done, Ace is still fighting. He is still trying. His injuries may be a… complication but it's all up to Ace now._ _You can do this. You can survive, kiddo._

_I believe in you._

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace was four years old. At least, he thought he was four. The… child frowned at his small, pudgy hands in confusion, wiggling his tiny fingers, but was quickly distracted from his bewilderment by his surroundings. He stood in the forest on Dawn Island. The sun's light filtered through the treetops and the leaves rustled gently in the wind, making Ace look upon them with awe.

One leaf drifted down from its branch, emerald and gold in the sunlight, and the boy giggled, walking towards it and trying to catch it in his palms. He succeeded and beamed at his prize, holding it up to the light. The sunbeams made the fragile veins and lines in the leaf more prominent, showing off the fascinating, unique designs in its membrane. Ace wasted no time in showing it to his companion, a wide smile on his face.

"Jack! Look what I—"

The Winter Spirit was not there. Ace blinked and turned in a circle, smile fading when he failed to spot the Guardian. The child held his leaf to his chest and glanced around uncertainly before deciding Jack must be hiding. That was rude of him. People were supposed to  _say_  when they were playing hide and seek. He began to walk towards their treehouse, hopping over tree roots and leaves, and pouted to himself.

 _Jack's being a meanie again_ , he huffed.  _Why does he always have to play tricks?_

" _It's not a trick."_

Ace jumped and backed up a step, eying his surroundings apprehensively. He thought he heard a voice but no one was there. The child quickly decided to ignore it and its words anyway because it was not real and he needed to find Jack. He kept walking through the forest, moving just a little faster than before. It was getting dark. The trees were turning from green and brown to black and grey, welcoming foliage becoming thin fingers and harsh shadows waiting to grab him.

One branch seemed to reach out, carving a gash in Ace's cheek as he passed, and he gasped, clapping a hand to the cut. His steps quickened and he started to run, yelping as the forest grabbed for him, pulling at his clothes and hair and cutting into his skin. The child flinched and ran faster, feeling uneasy even as he told himself that no, the trees were not out to get him.

"Jack?" he called, voice shaky and small. "Jack, where are you?"

No response came from the Winter Spirit. A gale started up, harsh and cold, and Ace winced as it struck his exposed skin. He shivered and rubbed at his upper arms in an attempt to warm himself, slowing down as the temperature plummeted.

"J-Jack!" he shouted. "Come out! This isn't funny anymore!"

His brother refused to show himself. Panic finally gripped Ace's limbs and he raced through the whipping branches and shadowy woods, the forest growing darker and more unfamiliar with every step. He shouted for Jack, again and again, but his voice was lost amongst the howling winds. But it would be fine.  _He_  would be fine. He just needed Jack—

With a horrible  _crack_ , a tree fell. Ace tried to get out of the way but was not quick enough. The trunk slammed into him, sending him to the ground, and his right leg was pinned beneath the wood, splinters and bark digging into his flesh. The child screamed as he felt the bones in his lower leg snap, pain shooting up the limb. Ace looked at it and wished he had not, shaking as he spotted the bloody mess that was his leg.

He tried to pull the limb out and wailed again as the splinters were driven deeper into his flesh. He could not move his leg an inch. Pushing at the tree trunk was useless as well, the wood too heavy for him to shift and free himself. Ace could feel tears brimming in his eyes.

"Jack, I'm stuck!" he called, a sob in his voice.

There was no sound except for the cold gale. There was no playful wind to announce the Winter Spirit's presence. The forest remained empty except for the child, helpless and alone.

" _Pathetic."_  The wind seemed to hiss.  _"You can't even escape by yourself."_

Ace pushed desperately at the fallen trunk again, not acknowledging the taunts. It still would not budge. As the forest grew darker and night fell around him, Ace slowly gave up, laying down and crying quietly from both frustration and pain. Why was he so weak? He was stronger than this. He had lifted things much heavier than the tree before with little effort.

" _It's because you're helpless on your own."_  The wind and trees whispered.  _"You can do anything unassisted. Forced to rely on others for every little thing… and yet you call Luffy the_ _ **baby**_ _."_

Ace was starting to feel cold, and it was not the nice cold of Jack, his powers, and his hugs. He shivered and breathed shakily, consciousness flickering, but a bolt of pain shooting through his leg startled him back into wakefulness. He shoved at the trunk one more time, then let his arms fall to his sides. He couldn't do it. He couldn't free himself. He would have to wait for Jack to rescue him, for the Winter Spirit to help him like he always had to.

 _I'm so weak…_  Ace thought, his tears only adding to his assessment.  _I can't do anything alone._

Vague memories flashed through his mind, shadowy and disjointed, and along with his confusion about them came a bitter acceptance. He was not strong enough to defeat Teach or Akainu. He was not courageous enough to stand against Pitch's tortures. He was forced to rely on others from day to day, not trustworthy or capable enough to be by himself for even a second. He was just a burden, a weakling, and a load others had to bear. Even when he tried his best, it was not good enough.

Ace's puzzlement over his fractured memories was swept aside by an empty feeling in his gut. He tried to curl up, only for the movement to shift his leg, causing him to scream in agony. Once the pain lessened and he calmed down, the child realized that if Jack had not come running because of his shrieks, then the Winter Spirit was not coming at all.

 _That's okay. He shouldn't have to help me_ , Ace thought. His grey eyes widened, then narrowed.  _He_ _ **shouldn't**_ _have to help me. Not with this._

Other memories were coming back, showing him fighting beside an orange-haired woman, assisting a pompadour-sporting man, and protecting a familiar straw hat-wearing teen.

_No. I'm not weak. Not all the time. When it matters, I can be competent. I can help people. I can still do things by myself. I'm_ _**not** _ _weak, or useless, or helpless._

More recent memories rushed back into his mind.  _Even after being tortured, I still fought Pitch. I won't say I went toe to toe with him, but I did manage to survive every time. I've battled Garp and Teach, defended my brothers, practically raised Luffy, helped Thatch recover from the news of Teach's death, and made Haruta realize his guilt was uncalled-for. Some things aren't that important, but_ _ **I**_ _still did them._

_I am Hiken D. Ace, Summer Spirit and former Commander of Whitebeard. I will_ _**not** _ _be defeated by a bloody tree._

The trunk vanished in white flames.

ROTGOPROTGOP

"…Is it because of us?"

Jack and a few others turned to look at Tooth, who did not appear to notice their gazes or that she had spoken aloud. The Fairy's feathers were duller than normal, droopy and pressed close to her body like she was trying to keep herself warm. Even her eyes seemed to have lost some of their color, staring vaguely at the wall in front of her.

The Guardian of Memories modified her question. "Did Ace do this because of us?"

Jack opened his mouth to say 'Of course not' but could not voice the words.

"It wasn't  _just_  you." Thatch said quietly, not looking at the Guardians. "Ace has been struggling for… quite a while, and problems just kept piling up. He hasn't slept for weeks, Pitch attacked, people died, Marco got hurt—" The Phoenix looked away. "— Ace's room was vandalized, there was the stress of you guys showing up… that new bounty of his that requests he be captured alive—" North and Bunny's eyes widened before narrowing suspiciously. "—and more." The chef gave a watery chuckle that held no amusement. "We really should have seen this coming. We should have known Ace wasn't nearly as okay as he pretended to be."

"What more could we have done, though?" Izo asked rhetorically. "We're not mind-readers and pestering him would only make him even more tight-lipped. Ace wouldn't tell us what was bothering him in order to 'protect' us." The okama sighed deeply, rubbing at his eyes. "He always was the type to hide things and try to deal with them on his own."

"He should have known better." Sabo said.

Jack could not identify if his tone was bitter or just tired, so he did not comment.

"He didn't— doesn't." Thatch replied. His shoulders slumped. "I just—"

Almost everyone jumped when Bay burst from the infirmary with enough force to make the door slam into the wall with a crash. Her eyes scanned the tense, pale faces in the halls, resting on the Winter Spirit.

"Jack, get in here _._ "

The Winter Spirit leapt on his seat and rushed to follow the command. Luffy and Sabo rose as well but Bay froze them with a glare.

"You two, stay here."

Even Luffy did not dare to argue, paralyzed by the warning in her tone. As soon as Jack entered the infirmary, she slammed the door shut in their faces.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace woke in water.

He yelped and stumbled to his feet, causing the liquid that had nearly covered his face to splash around his ankles. His pants clung to his legs, dripping water down his calves, and as he watched the water quickly reached his knees. The fire-user barely took time to recognize that he was in the Moby Dick's med bay before he took off running, ripping the door open on his way out.

The ship was sinking. Water flooded the empty halls, filling the vessel room by room as it was slowly submerged. Ace did not question how the Moby Dick had been damaged or attempt to seek out anyone else.

_I need to get out._

The floor tilted and he slammed into the wall, pressing his opposite hand against the wood in an attempt to remain upright. He continued racing through the lower decks, breathing heavily, and yelped as water broke through the wood in front of him, spraying him in the face. He inhaled some and coughed, wincing as it burned his lungs, but pushed onward, making it onto the deck. He had just enough time to see that the blue sky before the wood groaned beneath his feet.

Ace tried to take to the air but was not quick enough. The boat snapped in half below him and he fell plunging into the water. The impact drove the breath from his lungs and he opened his mouth on instinct, breathing in liquid instead of air.

The fire-user's body jerked and writhed in pain and he clamped his mouth shut, fighting against the black spots swaying in front of his eyes. The water was icy cold and hungrily soaked his shorts, drenching them until they seemed to be a thousand times heavier than before. It sapped the strength from his limbs, making them feel like lead, and Ace slowly began to sink. He was an idiot. Of course he could not swim. Devil Fruit users were deadweights in the water.

The pressure was starting to get to Ace, squeezing his head and chest, and he fought to keep the last bits of air inside his aching lungs. He wanted to think that someone would rescue him, but he was alone. The thought scared him a little, but at the moment loneliness was overcome by a fear of death. No, not death exactly. Dying like  _this_. The fire-user was drowning in icy water, just like Jack did. At least the Winter Spirit had drowned saving someone. Ace was just drowning.

 _All those stories I heard about his death… and yet this is how I go out…_  Ace thought faintly.  _Not in battle… or saving my family. Just… like this…_

He almost felt indignant and cheated. Ace was not the most prideful guy, but he admitted that he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, not slip away, alone and unnoticed, because he fell into the sea. Jack had always been so terrified of the fire-user drowning that he had taught Ace to swim as soon as he had enough motion control.

The pirate could easily recall the agitated, nervous look the Winter Spirit always got whenever Ace was in the water, watching him like a hawk and ready to dive to his rescue the moment he thought something was wrong. Ace had always been an adequate swimmer though, and had easily learned how to maneuver through the water by the time he was four. That training had become useless once he got a Devil Fruit.

… _But I don't have the Mera Mera No Mi anymore. I'm a Spirit now._

Ace forced his eyes open. He remembered now. He was no longer an anchor, doomed to be a frozen hammer in the sea. He knew how to swim, and could if he wanted to. There was no reason to fear the water. It could no longer trap him.

Fire raced through Ace's limbs and he pushed at the water, heading towards the distant light he could see far above him. His arms and legs wanted to protest, but their cramps and heaviness were pushed aside and ignored in favor of pure determination. The surface was far away, but it was not out of reach. The water was an obstacle, not a prison.

He could escape it.

Ace's lungs and limbs burned but he kept treading water, slowly making his way out of the depths of the sea. He kept his eyes on his goal, which drew closer with every stroke, close enough that he swore he could reach out and touch the light that looked like a shimmering sun.

He broke the surface of the water, breathing in wonderful, clean air and white fire burned around him, consuming the ocean.

ROTGOPROTGOP

If Jack was not walking so quickly, he was certain Bay would be dragging him to Ace's side by his shirt. Instead he kept pace with the doctor, who threw gloves, a smock, and a hair net at him as they went. The Winter Spirit put on the gear without question or complaint, even as his stomach twisted. He was not certain how well he would be able to handle it if he was being taken into his brother's operation. The Guardian was not one to flee when Ace needed him, however, so he did not hesitate for a second when Bay held the door to the room open for him, ushering him inside.

The place was so sterile Jack had to resist the desire to cringe in distaste. He knew hospitals had to be like this, he did, but that did not mean he had to like it. After his initial disgust, the Winters Spirit's eyes were drawn to the single bed in the room, which had two nurses beside it. His breath caught in his throat.

If not for the heart monitor at his side and the slight movement of his chest, Jack was certain Ace would look dead. His skin was paler than the white sheet he lay on, made worse by the contrast against his sweaty black hair. Although he had not lost any more weight— that Jack was aware of— the Summer Spirit looked thinner and smaller than he actually was, his cheekbones and ribs sticking out more than before.

His arms were already stitched and heavily bandages, the white strips almost blending into his sickly skin. A bag of red liquid— the Winter Spirit carefully did  _not_  think about what it was even though he definitely knew— was set in a stand near the fire-user and another bag— filled with a much friendlier clear liquid—was currently attached to an IV stuck in Ace's arm.

Jack had to release a relieved sigh as he took it all in, the setup making him understand that Ace was out of danger at this time— or at least in less danger than he was before. The Winter Spirit approached slowly, eyes never leaving his unconscious brother's face, and listened to the steady beating of the heart monitor. Bay gave him a moment before speaking.

"The only reason I brought you in here is because I have no idea what the hell is happening."

Jack shot her an alarmed glance but she continued before he could ask.

"Look at this." Bay said, striding forward and gently picking up Ace's right arm.

It took Jack a minute, but he slowly identified the source of her confusion. Ace's arm was thickly bandaged, with only the skin of his upper arm currently visible. The  _clear_  skin of his upper arm.

"The sand there is  _gone_?" Jack gasped.

Bay frowned and carefully set Ace's arm down. "So I was right that there used to be sand there. I wasn't certain so I wanted to ask you. Which reminds me… Do you have an idea of how the  _hell_  this happened?"

Jack's thoughts jumped to a possible solution and an unbidden grin crossed his face. "He actually can do it." He hurried to explain when Bay shot him a look that promised a brutal demise if he didn't. "We think the white flames Ace used in battle have the ability to free things. That would include freeing  _himself_  of the black sand."

As if it had decided to support the Guardian of Fun's statement, a flicker of white appeared at Ace's left leg. Before their stunned— and in Jack's case, joyful— eyes, the flames seemed to devour part of the sand on the Summer Spirit's calf, leaving smooth, unblemished skin behind.

Jack's grin grew so big his cheeks began to hurt. "He's doing it." He repeated. "He's fighting his fears and  _winning_."

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace woke on an operation table.

The fire-user barely had his eyes open for a second before he closed them, unwilling to look at what lay before him any longer. Positioned above him was a large mirror, an object that was noticeably out of place in the medical setting. Then again, the Summer Spirit was most definitely not in a legal and ethical facility. How did he know?

If Ace's single second of sight was accurate, he was currently split open like a gutted fish, his insides clearly on display.

The fire-user's fragile state of denial failed him and agony ripped through his body. The cloth in his mouth stopped him from voicing a scream, but for all he knew he might not be able to make a sound regardless. He didn't have a voice. Or did he?

Ace tried to ignore the pain by getting a feel for his situation, which was rather counterproductive in hindsight. The only sensation the Summer Spirit could comprehend was the exposed condition of his organs. He managed to refrain from retching and forced his eyes open again, trying to take in his surroundings without looking directly at himself in the mirror.

A few quick glances revealed that he was cuffed to the table by his wrists and ankles by thick metal manacles, and his head was stuck in its current position due to straps over his forehead. He caught sight of something pulsing at the edge of his vision and— were those his  _ribs?_ —closed his eyes again, struggling not to gag.

The sound of an opening door made him tense, but he could do little else to move as the newcomer approached. The tapping footsteps halted beside him and there was a soft click. Ace cringed, expecting something to be driven into his skin, but nothing touched him.

"Day four hundred eighty-three. Subject has shown no adverse effects to dissection except for enhanced stimulation of the A delta and C nerve fibers." The man spoke dispassionately, feeling no empathy for the fire-user.

Ace realized he must be recording his words on something, and relaxed the slightest bit. A second later, pain lanced through the Spirit's body but he did not have the ability to flinch. His eyes snapped open on instinct and he saw a man in a lab coat prodding a strange empty area in his abdomen with a—

Ace shut his eyes again.

"The retrieved kidney and liver have not regenerated as expected, but the subject's body has not shown signs of shutting down."

A small hint of emotion entered the scientist's voice, but it did not give Ace hope. The man sounded intrigued, almost excited, like he had been given a precious gift. The Summer Spirit's body tried to lurch when the scientist began cutting  _something_  but could do little more than twitch pathetically. Tears trickled down his temples and the man stopped what he was doing. A gloved hand touched Ace's face and he desperately wished he could shrink away.

"I truly am sorry about hurting you like this." The scientist said, not sounding sorry at all. "But I'm afraid it must be done. You have something we want, something so many people would kill for.  _Immortality_." He spoke the last word almost lustfully, making a shiver go up Ace's spine. "I can see that you do not want your gift. You wanted to die even before I acquired you." He laughed, the sound so human it was eerie. "It's so  _ironic_. Many wish to live for eternity, and yet the one who doesn't is doomed to roam this world forever."

The man continued to stroke his cheek, making the Summer Spirit's skin crawl with every touch. Ace refused to even look at him.

The scientist sighed and pulled away. "But that's all right. I'm sure I've almost found your secret. I won't be able to kill you, but I just might be able to  _use_  you to create something beautiful. Isn't that wonderful?"

Ace could not respond, even if he wanted to.

There was another click. "Day four hundred eighty-three, continued. Subject is conscious. Proceeding with scheduled heart removal."

Ace wanted to panic. He wanted to flail and fight and scream. But the ability to move seemed to have abandoned him, leaving him trapped in his body as there was the soft clink of shifting metal. He tried to delude himself into thinking he would die but the facts told him that would not be the case. Forget his previous fear of drowning. He would prefer that death— any death— to being forced to live forever.

When he was human, he lived with the full expectancy that every day would be his last. He was lucky to be born— and maybe should not have been born at all— and was perfectly happy— and a little surprised— when he lasted another day. Then Marineford happened, and he died, but then he was brought back as a Spirit. An  _Immortal_.

Ace did not have a human lifespan anymore. He would not age anymore. He would  _never_  die.

A single day had become an eternity, and that terrified Ace. He accepted that he would die someday. He was supposed to die someday. But that certainty had been torn away from him, and now he was paying the price for it.

Ace tried to focus on anything else as the scientist literally cut his heart out, but his other sources of pain could not compare to the sheer agony the operation wrought. He did not want to live like this. He did not want to live forever. Not when there was absolutely no way for his suffering to end. Except…

_This isn't possible. Spirits can die. They're not invincible._

Vague tales about vanishing and slain Immortals trickled back to Ace. Spirits could be injured. They could fade away, through unlucky disbelief or choice. Even powerful Spirits like Sandy and Mother Nature could fall if they were damaged enough. That meant Ace was not completely immortal. He  _could_  die.

The pain was growing distant, almost muffled now. Ace could no longer feel his heart being ripped from his chest, or any of his other wounds for that matter. The realization was strangely comforting. He did not want to die, exactly, but he was not cursed to live through unspeakable torture that no body could endure, not even his own.

How odd. This fear did not require force or determination to overcome, merely understanding. He hoped the next nightmare would also be so merciful.

Ace let himself fall into gentle white flames, and peacefully slipped away.

ROTGOPROTGOP

The sound of a footstep broke through the darkness, and in an instant Jack snapped from sleeping to wakefulness. He leaped up and forwards, staff held high and crackling with power, only to let it dissipate when he saw who had woken him. Luffy had the forethought to keep his distance, hands up, falling back until he saw the Winter Spirit recognized he was not a threat.

Jack took a moment to scan the room, briefly checking on Ace. The fire-user was still unconscious, still breathing, but appeared to have less black marks then he did before. The Winter Spirit let his defensive stance fall, wiping a hand across his forehead and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to get the crick out of his neck.

"Sorry." He grunted at his youngest brother.

Luffy shrugged, not the least bit concerned about the fact that he had nearly been turned into a human ice sculpture. As usual. "No worries. I just came to check on Ace. Bay finally said I could come in again."

Jack hummed vaguely in acknowledgement to his words. It had been over a day since the Winter Spirit found Ace. According to Bay, the fire-user was in stable condition medically speaking. In other words, his injuries were no longer a threat to his life, with only the sand keeping him from waking. The news helped alleviate Jack's fear for his brother a little but did not fully vanquish it. It was true that the sand was slowly disappearing from Ace's skin but one bad nightmare could cause it to respawn even worse than it was before. Apparently that worry had not been enough to keep the Winter Spirit up, however.

Jack sighed, transferring his hand from his forehead to his eyes. "How long was I asleep?"

Luffy tipped his head. "A few hours. It's morning now."

The Winter Spirit frowned. "If you just came back, who was watching Ace when I was asleep?"

The rubber pirate rubbed at his nose. "Gramps was here for a bit. He left when I came in." Luffy twitched violently, skin blanching. "He expects me and Sabo to train with him later today."

"How terrible." Jack said blandly.

Luffy sat in the empty chair next beside him, shoulders hunched. "I'd face a thousand Fists of Love if it meant Ace would wake up."

Jack grimaced and ruffled his littlest brother's hair, making him pout. "There's no need for that. Ace is going to be fine."

The expected 'I know that!' or 'Of course he is!' didn't come.

Luffy stretched his neck to stare Jack in the face, looking subdued. "Ace is beating the sand, but the sand isn't the only problem he has. Everyone is so sure that Ace hurt himself. I didn't really understand why he would do that so I asked Chopper, Sabo, and Traffy some questions."

Something seemed to wrap around Jack's throat, making it harder to breathe.

"Sabo was still mad and said he didn't want to explain it. Chopper didn't want to tell me either. But Traffy did." Luffy's voice lowered. "He told me a lot of reasons why Ace might have done that. Ace might have rather dealt with physical pain instead of mental or emotional pain, or was really tired of living or… or thought he was doing us a favor by dying so we wouldn't have to care for him anymore." The rubber pirate's voice became a soft whisper as he spoke. "Traffy said those are sometimes the reasons, but might not be for Ace. I think they're all stupid and Ace should know better but… what if, when he wakes up, he  _doesn't_?"

Jack knew what the kid was asking. What if— even after the sand was gone— Ace's mind had not been changed about harming himself? What if he had not intended to kill himself, instead mutilating his flesh for other reasons, and still thought those reasons were valid? All three of Law's explanations sounded terribly plausible and if Ace had indeed harmed himself because of them, the problem might not just go away.

"We'll just have to watch Ace and try to convince him otherwise, then." Jack said firmly.

It was not much of a plan, but it was enough for Luffy. The rubber pirate laid his head on Jack's shoulder, and the two brothers sank into their own thoughts, continuing to wait.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace woke in a bed. The fire-user opened his eyes slowly, taking in the familiar— and unwanted— sight of the white ceiling of the infirmary. He let his eyes roam and studied his surroundings, his gaze falling on the occupants of the three chairs set around his bed. They were certainly not the people he expected to see— making dread creep over him like an icy chill— and considered pretending to still be out cold.

Tooth spotted him before he could think to try. "You're awake."

Ace's stomach locked up tight at her tone. She spoke softly and robotically, like she was trying to keep her voice under control. When the fire-user attempted to meet her eyes, she avoided his gaze, staring at her hands. Ace turned to the other Guardians and instantly regretted his decision, caught off guard by the coldness in Bunny's emerald stare, and the sadness in North's. The iciness sank into his flesh and bones, chilling his very core, and his mind jumped to the one explanation why the Guardians were here and upset, and Jack was noticeably absent.

_Something happened to him. Not again…_

Ace looked for his notebook but it was nowhere in sight, leaving him unable to ask the question he so desperately needed answered.

North sensed his dilemma. "Jack is fine. He will return soon. We just wished to speak with you."

The Summer Spirit uselessly looked for his notebook again, sighed, and raised his eyebrow questioningly.

Bunny growled. "Don't give us that look, ya dero."

Ace did not know what that word meant, but the Pooka's tone implied that it was not a term of endearment. Tooth took a deep breath, leaning forward so the fire-user had no choice but to look her in the eyes.

"Is it true?" she asked shakily. "Did you kill all those people?"

Remorse settled heavily in Ace's chest, accompanied by feelings of shame and horror. He forced himself not to drop his gaze because doing so was just as revealing as voicing his guilt. He saw Bunny's paw tighten around his forearm, while North looked anywhere except at the Summer Spirit.

"…Okay." Tooth said eventually, taking his small reaction as confirmation. "I know that you're a Nature Spirit and that makes you a bit… wild, but that doesn't mean you can go around incinerating humans that anger you." As she continued, her voice remained gentle and distant— though slightly strained.

Ace could tell she was struggling, choosing each word carefully before she voiced it. It was like she was speaking to a sociopathic child or a madman waving around a gun. One wrong word would cause an explosion, and take the lives of dozens of innocents. The comprehension that Tooth thought Ace was that type of person— that he was capable of such wanton destruction and murder— hurt deeply. He was not some immoral demon who flew around killing humans for fun. He only killed to protect, or when he was attacked first.

The Summer Spirit blinked and spotted his notebook on the bedside table. Brushing aside his confusion about how he had missed it before, he picked it up.  _"It's true. I did kill some humans. They were Marines that threatened to kill Marco. They had a gun to his head."_  He shuddered as he recalled the ordeal.

The Guardians did not sympathize with his distress. Tooth looked ready to cry, one hand pressed to her cheek like she was trying not to put it over her mouth. Bunny's eyes blazed with anger. And North still refused to even look at Ace, barely glancing at the notebook long enough to read the words.

"And now you're making excuses." Bunny sneered. "Looks like we've got ourselves a real mongrel, don't we?"

Ace lost his internal battle and looked down, unable to meet their upset and furious eyes any longer.

"Don't call him that, Bunny." Surprisingly, Tooth came to his defense. "We just need to make him understand—"

"Understand  _what_?" the Pooka demanded. "That killing is wrong? Don't even bother, Tooth. He already knows that but he doesn't care." Emerald orbs turned to Ace, filled with disgust and anger, and the Guardian of Hope sneered. "He massacred a whole ship even though it wasn't necessary. He's  _rotten_  inside. A  _murderer_. Just like his father—"

"Enough, Bunny." North said.

The Cossack sounded exhausted. He sat beside Ace's bed, each movement slow and showing his great age, and leaned forward, putting a hand on the Summer Spirit's shoulder. Naturally, Ace stiffened, but quickly decided that the disappointment in North's eyes was far worse than the unwanted contact.

"Jack told us so much about you, you know." The Guardian of Wonder said quietly. "I know that flaws are often unnoticed by those we love, but I never thought your flaws would involve something like  _this_. You murdered innocent people, Ace. And you do not feel bad about your actions. You only feel bad that  _we_   _found out_  about it."

There was genuine pain in his tone and Ace could feel his guilt smothering him. North's other hand settled on his free shoulder, squeezing just a little too tightly to be comfortable.

"Spirits are granted great power and are expected to use that power responsibly. There is a reason rules are set in place on Earth to keep us from taking our anger out on humans. And yet you think you can just sink a ship with no consequences? With no remorse?" North's hands fell from Ace's shoulders and he shook his head. "How could Manny ever think a monster like you could be one of us? You're no better than Pitch!"

Ace felt lower than dirt. His thoughts scrambled for explanations and reasons for his actions, but he suspected that he was just making excuses again. The realization did nothing to strengthen the fire-user's resolve and he shut stinging eyes.

North exhaled audibly. "I know that you are young, and we have no power over you, but I encourage you to never do this again. Such vile actions will not be permitted on Earth and if you do choose to murder humans again, you  _will_ face the consequences. My only request is that you do not drag Jack down with you."

Ace's eyes snapped open and he stared at the Cossack.

North's visage was stern. "Jack is already seen as a troublemaker on Earth. Of the Guardians, he is the least trusted and respected. Some Spirits are jealous of his appointment, while others believe he is unworthy of being one of us. Association with someone like you could hurt him." Blue eyes grew earnest. "Surely you do not want that?"

Ace was nodding before he fully registered what he was agreeing with. His mind momentarily blanked before going into overdrive. It was pretty obvious the Guardians despised him for what he had done. He had broken their cardinal rule and it was understandable that they could not forgive him for that. But he had never thought Jack would be affected by his mistake. He did not want the Winter Spirit to be ostracized because of him, especially not within his first group of friends.

When the Summer Spirit continued to refrain from giving a response, North pressed onward.

"It would be best for you to cut off ties with Jack as well. You have to understand that Jack is one of us first. There is little way for the Guardians and Manny to be associated with you, but He is one of ours, and he deserves better than to be disgraced because of you. If Spirits found out that he is friends with a monster, he will be hated and shunned right after he gained the respect of those that thought he was little more than a nuisance. You don't want to hurt him like that, do you?"

Ace instinctively shook his head.

North smiled sadly. "Then let him return to where he belongs. You're only holding him back."

The desire to keep Jack in his life was instantaneous and strong, and it took a moment for Ace to see past it. In hindsight, Manny's assurances that he was not doomed to become a Guardian were too good to be true. Of course the Man in the Moon would not want a monstrous, selfish murderer on his team. The Guardians were idols, the elite of the elite, and having the twitchy Summer Spirit in their group would be the equivalent of having Pitch there. Spirits would be disgusted, and lose faith in them, and everyone's reputations would drop because they would be linked to him. Including Jack.

Jack was a Guardian. He was important and special and brought joy to so many kids. No one had believed in him though, before he had become the Guardian of Fun. He had been scorned, shunned, and rejected like an unwanted stray. Jack's tales of being chased by the Spirit of Spring, pushed into a lack by condescending sprites, and looked down upon by countless other Spirits raced through Ace's mind.

Ace wondered how he could be so idiotically self-centered. He had only cared about what others would think about him, not even considering what they might think of Jack because of him. It was almost funny to think about his earlier hissy fit now. He had freaked out about being forced to become a Guardian, when they did not even want him in the first place. Why would any of them hold the desire to bond with a stupid, arrogant, selfish Seasonal Spirit, when they had not even bothered to befriend lovable, playful, kind-hearted Jack?

"I see that you are beginning to understand." North said gently. "You know what you have to do. Break off ties with Jack and be alone. You are a Season and you do not need anyone. You'll be fine by yourself."

Ace tried to take the claims about his supposed independence to heart, but knew they were not for his sake. North only cared about Jack. He did not care about the damaged fire-user who had proven to be a monster. The Summer Spirit picked up his notebook, ignoring his trembling hands, and went to write that he agreed, and would talk to the Winter Spirit later… only to pause as a memory came to the front of his mind.

"… _Why are you hugging me?" seven year-old Ace asked with a sigh, a vein twitching on his forehead. He was currently trapped in a cold embrace, long arms locked around him and keeping him from breaking free._

_Jack put his chin on top of the child's head, and Ace could practically feel him smirking. "Oh, no reason."_

_Ace wiggled, trying to escape the grip the Winter Spirit had on him, but swiftly resigned himself to his fate. He slumped in Jack's arms and scowled—_ _**not** _ _pouted. He did not pout._

" _You aren't planning a prank, are you?" he asked suspiciously._

" _Nope." Jack claimed._

" _Going to put ice down my shirt?"_

" _Nuh uh."_

_Ace's grey eyes narrowed. "I'm watching you."_

_Jack chuckled. "So suspicious. Can't a big bro just give his adorable little brother a hug?" His voice cracked at the end and Ace felt his breathing stutter._

_The child twisted in the Winter Spirit's arms, peering up at him worriedly. "…Jack? Are you crying?"_

" _No." the Guardian said huffily. "…Not yet." he amended. "Just… let me hold you for a sec, okay kiddo?"_

" _If you tell me why you're sad." Ace bargained._

_Jack ruffled his hair. "I'm fine."_

_Ace glowered. "Tell me or I won't play in your snowball fight later."_

_The Winter Spirit looked torn between laughing and biting his lip. "Oh no. Anything but that." He laid his hand on the child's head. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. I'm just glad you're here."_

_His shaky tone stopped Ace from protesting again, and the child lifted his arms to encircle the Winter Spirit's waist. Jack's grip tightened a little, almost like he was clinging to his little brother, and as Ace watched, it began to snow._

It had taken years for Ace to understand why Jack would become clingier than usual at random. When he was seven, he thought little of it. When he was ten, he thought it was because of Sabo's apparent demise. It was only when he started to gather his first crew that he gained clarity.

Jack was alone for three hundred years. Jack's existence was that of a lonely, isolated Winter Spirit. Then Jack joined the Guardians. During his journey to become one of Manny's chosen, he had saved the world and gained friends on the way. But those friends could not be around whenever the Winter Spirit needed company. Tooth and Sandy worked every day and night, Bunny and North were too busy around their holidays to pay much attention to Jack, and during those years even Jamie was usually at school or work.

So even after he became a Guardian, Jack was still lonely. He did not have a constant companion like Tooth had her Fairies and North had his Yetis and Elves. Once Ace had come to his realization, he asked the Winter Spirit about it, and Jack admitted that having someone around almost all the time was a novel experience for him and he was not used to it. Sometimes, he could not believe he was so lucky. Sometimes, he needed to make sure  _Ace was really there_.

The revelation had been startling but expected, and little more had needed to be said. It was not brought up again, but it did not need to be. Ace had Jack and Jack had Ace and neither would ever be alone when they needed company. Logically, the Summer Spirit knew that would likely change once they got to Earth and they had to herd their opposing seasons, but the Guardians wanted more than separation due to duties. They wanted Ace to cut all ties with his brother for the sake of reputation and potential backlash.

" _No."_

The Summer Spirit did not remember writing the word. There it was, on the page, and what it was responding to was clear. Tooth gasped worriedly, Bunny growled, and North's expression grew solemn. Ace did not care. His thoughts appeared on the page as if he had scribed them, and he felt no need to take them back.

" _I will not discard Jack like that, especially not because of 'maybes' and your bloody image. I killed to save the life of my brother and I will never regret that decision. That does not make me a monster, nor does it make me a pariah. It isn't up to you to decide if I am a bad person for Jack to be around, and it is not mine either. It's Jack's. If he decides to ditch me some day, so be it but until then I will stay with him because I promised to never leave him alone."_

His expression hardened.  _"You may be Jack's friends, but you_   _are not yet mine. You don't get a say on how I live my life. And as far as I'm concerned, Jack is a part of that life. Either accept that and accept me for who I am, or stay the hell away."_

The Guardians and infirmary vanished, and Ace fell into white flames.


	38. Freedom of a Summer's Day

Ace woke in time to get a stone to the jaw. The impact snapped his head to the side as pain exploded in his chin and his vision darkened. Another rock striking his cheek forced him back into reality and he panted, raising his head. Before him was a mob of gigantic size, filling the cobblestone streets as far as the eye could see. Angry, terrified, and repulsed faces looked up at him, and the Summer Spirit almost quailed beneath the loathing in so many of those eyes.

He finally took note of his position and realized he was tied to a stake, his arms behind his back and his neck and ankles chained to the pole. A third stone struck Ace— in the stomach this time—and he could not hold back a wince. The anger of the mob was only enhanced by the shouts that filtered out through the roars of the crowd, insults coming forth with the intent of hurting more than any projectiles.

"Monster!"

"Demon spawn!"

"Die like your father!"

"Burn in hell!"

"Tainted blood runs in your veins!"

"Menace!"

"You never should have been born!"

"Scum!"

"Kill the Pirate King's bastard!"

Apparently Ace was going to be executed again. He should be more scared or maybe even weary like how a sane person would react, but instead he was more perplexed. Perhaps he was being a little slow on the uptake about what was happening, but were they going to burn him at the stake this time? That did not make sense. He was a Fire Spirit. Heat could not hurt him.

Ace flinched as a sharp stone split the skin on his cheek. He tried pulling at his bonds but gave up quickly when they refused to budge. He scanned the crowd, cringing as a rock hit his shoulder, and searched for any allies in the mob. The fire-user did not recognize the city they were in. It was definitely not Marineford or Dawn Island or even Loguetown. Did that mean that Whitebeard and the others would be unable to find him this time? He did not see any friendly faces in the onlookers.

_I'm on my own. Maybe that's for the best._

Thudding footsteps sounded from slightly behind Ace and he craned his neck, trying to see who was coming. His heart froze in his chest before it sped up to a thousand beats a minute, like it was trying to burst from his ribcage.

Akainu strode up beside Ace, staring coldly down at the fire-user. The Summer Spirit's breathing quickened in response, fear flashing through his expression, and a satisfied look momentarily crossed the Marine's harsh features. The Admiral— Fleet Admiral?— turned to the crowd, which grew silent.

"Today, a criminal which carries the cursed blood of the Pirate King in his veins shall be put to justice. Today, Portgas D. Ace shall be burned for the crimes of piracy, murder, obstructing Justice, and carrying the blood of Gold Roger." From Ace's point of view, Akainu's eyes seemed to glow red. "But first… we have two other criminals to deal with."

It was then that Ace saw the two people being led through the crowd. Fear spread through his body like ice, slicing through his heart and freezing him to his core, even as something wild and desperate burned through his veins, screaming in hopeless denial.

_No._

A chained and bloody Luffy and Sabo were being dragged up to the execution platform.

The Revolutionary was by far the worse off of the two, with crimson dripping down from a deep gash on his forehead and one arm so badly mangled it was purple. The blond-haired Logia looked concussed, gazing around with hazy blue eyes at his surroundings like he could not register what was going on. He was pulled more than led to the gallows, stumbling every few steps and forcing the Marines guiding him to yank him along like a bewildered, injured dog.

The Straw Hat Captain was better off, with only a few contusions and scrapes, and strode forward resolutely with a stoic, determined expression. It was only when he saw Ace that the calm look was replaced by shock and fear. Luffy finally began to struggle, mouth opening in a familiar shout, but a strike from the butt end of one guard's weapon sent him to his knees. The chained fire-user tried to call out to his brother or scream insults at the Marine as they carelessly pulled the downed pirate along, but could not utter a sound.

Luffy and Sabo were brought up to the platform and forced to kneel before Akainu, facing the crowd. The mob jeered and booed at the two, expressions demonic with hate. They did not know the two personally. They did not see them as people. To the crowd, they were monsters, anarchists, and criminals who deserved to die. But Ace knew better. Luffy and Sabo were his brothers, his lights. They were kind and funny and wonderful and had dreams and deserved to  _live_.

"Monkey D. Luffy, son of the Revolutionary, Dragon. Outlook Sabo, Chief-of-Staff of the Revolutionary Army." Akainu growled. "For your crimes against the World Government and relations to the Most Wanted Man, you are hereby sentenced to death."

It happened too quickly for anyone to even have a chance to stop it. Flesh became magma, and the Marine struck without mercy. His fist plunged through Sabo's back, sticking out his chest, and glassy blue eyes widened with shock. Then they filmed over, faded in death, and Sakazuki remorselessly ripped his hand free. Ace may have been screaming, lips parted in a soundless wail. He could not voice the anguished shrieks building in his chest but he tried, thrashing against his bonds and howling in silent agony as Sabo's motionless body fell to the platform.

The crowd roared its approval, glad one of the monsters was dead, and Akainu stood behind Luffy. The Straw Hat Pirate looked forward expressionlessly, before his gaze shifted to Ace. His eyes softened, growing slightly teary, and the small smile he gave his brother was sad and apologetic. Luffy did not want to die like this, with his older brother watching, but he could not prevent it. He had accepted it.

Luffy did not even attempt to move as Akainu drove his magma fist through his heart. Ace wailed mutely as his youngest brother slumped to the wood, dead before his head hit the floor. Even as his mind seemed to shatter and fall apart, the fire-user prayed that Luffy's death had been as quick as it seemed.

A yawning hollowness opened up inside him and he did not move as Akainu approached. He was next. He was going to die now. But maybe that was okay. He would be with his brothers again.

_Or maybe I won't be. I shouldn't be. I'm a failure. I let them die._

His tears were quickly evaporated by the searing heat from magma. Ace raised his eyes, meeting Sakazuki's apathetic gaze, and felt his lips quirk upward into a broken smile. He did not mean for it to be a challenge, but the Admiral took it as one. His eyes narrowed and instead of running Ace through the chest like his brothers he grabbed his prisoner's leg.

Ace's eyes rolled back and his throat strained in a voiceless scream as he felt his skin blacken. It felt like his leg had been nearly torn off instead of burned, but the smell alone was enough to tell him that skin had indeed been charred. The agonized sensation remained when Akainu let go, only for the Marine to do the same to his other limbs, one by one.

Through the haze of pain and terror, Ace could hear the crowd cheering. He did not understand how the people below could let this happen. How could they see this and not be horrified? Did they truly hate him so much that they could bear to watch him be tortured to death?

_I deserve it_ , his grieving mind thought.  _This is my atonement. I deserve to be punished. I'm the son of the most hated man in the world, and I just let my brothers die. I should have been stronger. I should have saved them. I should have…_

He could still hear the jeering and taunts of the crowd. Some were for him, but many others were directed at his fallen brothers. Ace wanted to be angry about the insults they threw at Luffy and Sabo but could not summon the clarity to think beyond the pain and grief.

Ace was faintly aware that Sakazuki was burning his stomach now— not penetrating deep enough to boil his organs yet, unluckily— and wished it would cool down enough for his tears to stop evaporating and let him show his sorrow. It was too hot. Hotter than the desert, and his last death, and a Summer's day.

Anger snapped neatly into place, startling Ace with its intensity, and his eyes focused. This was not possible. Sakazuki had beaten him before, but that was because his power outclassed the fire Logia's. But now, Ace was a Summer Spirit, one of Mother Nature's seasons. If Jack could handle going near a volcano, a Fire Spirit like him certainly could.

Ace had melted metal and seastone. He had flourished inside blistering infernos. He had made flames so hot they had evaporated part of a tsunami in a second, dissipating it and keeping himself and Marco safe. He was the Spirit of Summer, which had better be stronger than a lava-wielding bastard. Heat and fire were  _his_  to control, and would never be used against him again.

_Fire is_ _**mine** _ _._

The pain searing his body vanished. Ace shuddered once and opened his eyes, looking down at his healthy, unburnt skin. It was like he had never been hurt. Though in actuality, he was never harmed. He saw Akainu step back in shock in the corner of his eye but ignored the man. For a second everything blurred, and he thought he spotted a  _trapped-desperate-yearning- **help**_ ** _freeme_** fire just out of reach, but he dismissed its presence as well, focusing on more important things.

Ace looked at his brothers' corpses and felt tears prick at his eyes. He was ageless, unlike them, and be it through illness, violence, or even old age, he would lose Luffy and Sabo one day. But for now, they were alive. They were okay. They would not live forever, and Ace might not be there to protect them when they needed him most, but he had to accept that, just like he had when he had left Luffy behind at Dawn Island. In the past, he was there for them. In the future, he would lose them. But for now, his brothers had him to watch their backs, and he could watch theirs.

Particularly when it came to magma bastards.

Ace stared at Sakazuki, at his magma body and the heat coming off him in waves, and saw a real monster. However, the Marine was not one he could not hope to face. Akainu had beaten him. He had hated the fire-user more for things out of his control than the things Ace himself had actually done. He hid behind the farce called 'Absolute Justice' and used it as an excuse to kill not only those he hunted but those he was meant to protect.

The Summer Spirit was not one to make speeches about life and the importance of protecting the innocent, but thinking about all the awful things Akainu had done made Ace realize what a disgusting human being the man was. Compared to that, it was difficult for the fire-user to see himself as a monster. Instead Sakazuki was a monster, a hypocrite, and a coward in Ace's eyes.

The fire-user found that he could not be afraid of a weak fraud like that.

Akainu burst into white flames. Unlike in the other nightmares, the inferno did not cause Ace to go to another dream, or the 'Marine' to instantly vanish. Though he remained silent and the scene was not as graphic as it should be, Sakazuki burned like  _he_  was the one at the stake. As the Summer Spirit watched the nightmare-version of his murderer burn, he smiled.

_Maybe I'll do that in real life someday._

The thought was rather dark, but that was okay. Ace was a pirate. He was not expected to be nice to his enemies.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack tried to pretend to not notice Sabo's expression as he sat at Ace's bedside. He did. But it was difficult to remain silent when seeing the way the Revolutionary's visage would shift between anger, sadness, and hurt. The Winter Spirit would normally be prodding to see what was wrong by now, but the subject was so touchy that even he did not want to push Sabo's buttons to see when he would explode. If he was being honest with himself, his newfound caution was partially because the Logia could now literally blow up. Jack would be fine if he did, of course, but the medical equipment and other important things might not. Not to mention that Bay would be greatly displeased if her infirmary caught on fire.

He and Sabo continued to sit in silence, listening to the heart monitor and watching Ace's chest rise and fall. It was starting to become suffocating, but Jack could not bear to dispel the tension. He knew he was breaking the big brother code of forgiveness, but he was still a little mad at the Revolutionary for saying those things about Ace.

As if he sensed Jack's thoughts, Sabo spoke. "I'm sorry. I was out of line yesterday."

Jack kept quiet, waiting for him to continue. He spotted Bunny in the doorway, frozen in a position that would have made the Winter Spirit laugh in any other circumstance. The Pooka looked like he wanted to retreat but dare not to in case he interrupted as a result, resulting in him standing there like a furry statue.

The Revolutionary did not notice the Guardian of Hope. He looked away from Jack and Ace, voice suspiciously shaky. "I can't forgive Ace. I know that's awful of me because we don't even know if he actually hurt himself, but I just can't let it go." He finally glanced at the Winter Spirit, eyes filled with tears. "He may have tried to kill himself. Why would he do that? Did we do something wrong?"

For a moment, all Jack could see was a scared, confused ten year-old boy where Sabo sat. The Winter Spirit darted forward, hugging the Revolutionary, and he felt the blond-haired Logia shake.

"I don't know what we could have done differently or why he did it." Jack said honestly. "I'm trying not to dwell on it. But I'm sure Ace would be mad if he knew we were blaming ourselves."

"Yeah. Sounds like him." Sabo gave a watery chuckle. "He's such a hypocrite. He always thinks that he is the guilty party, but won't let anyone else think the same."

"That's just how Ace works." The Winter Spirit said. "Though it has been a lot worse lately. He told me about a lot of his nightmares a while ago. In a lot of them, everything bad that happened was 'his fault'. Or at least, the nightmare versions of everybody blamed him for everything. It… really took a toll on him." Jack sat back, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it. He took a shuddering breath. "I guess it transferred to reality. That sense of worthlessness, I mean. Maybe that was why he—" The Guardian of Fun pressed his hands against his eyes. "I think I'm failing at the not-blaming thing and not thinking about why." He tried to make it a joke but his tone came out wrong, instead sounding rather pathetic.

"…We're just a couple of paranoid worrywarts, aren't we?" Sabo said with a fragile laugh. His shoulders slumped. "I really am sorry I said all that. I didn't mean it. Not really."

"I know." Jack replied. "For the record, I'm sorry I punched you. I guess we were both a bit… out of control."

Sabo shook his head ruefully. "I guess. Still, I have to say you have a nice right hook."

"Tooth's is worse. She knocked out one of Pitch's teeth." Jack boasted.

"I'd pay to see that." The Revolutionary murmured.

They returned to silence, though it was less suffocating then before. Jack watched Bunny dither in the doorway, torn between retreating and stating whatever reason he had come for. The Pooka did not decide, and after a while, the Winter Spirit returned his attention to his brother,

"Doing better now?"

"Not really. You?"

"Kind of. Not really." Jack admitted.

"Should have known." Sabo said. "We're stuck wallowing in our misery right now, and will be until Ace wakes up. I just want him to  _explain_  and then maybe I'll be fine?" He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Jack's thoughts went through their conversation and he comprehended a large part of the Revolutionary's uncertainty. "It's okay that you're mad at Ace, you know." When Sabo glanced at him sharply, he continued. "I don't like that you are and I don't agree with it, but I get it. Ace is hurting a lot, and that— plus other things— make you feel guilty for being angry about what he did, but that doesn't mean you're a terrible person for feeling that way. I'm guessing you're angrier about not being able to stop it—"  _And yourself_ , Jack thought but did not voice. "—than at Ace himself but I know you're mature enough not to just lash out at him or something. I know also you love your brother and even if you're upset with him for hurting himself, you'll be there for him when it matters." He rolled his head sideways, meeting torn blue eyes. "You'll move past this once you get some answers, but for now it's  _okay_  to feel betrayed."

The Revolutionary relaxed. "You're right."

Ace twitched.

Sabo gasped.

The Revolutionary hunched over, expression set in a grimace, as flames flickered over his shoulders. His entire body shook, muscles taut beneath his clothes, and for a moment Jack thought his blond-haired brother was going to be sick. He grabbed the bucket kept there for such purposes as he moved before Sabo, putting an ice-covered hand on the Logia's shoulder. Sabo quaked beneath his fingers and his flames licked angrily at Jack's skin but were unable to touch the Winter Spirit. To Jack, it almost looked like the fire was stretching outward, reaching towards Ace.

Then the flames vanished quicker than they came and Sabo crumpled. The Guardian caught his brother— who thankfully was still conscious— and eased him into a sitting position in a chair. The Revolutionary breathed harshly, face covered in sweat.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Jack asked urgently.

"Fine. I'm fine." Sabo panted. "Just felt— pulling— Fire felt weird— I'm fine."

Jack's brow furrowed as he took in the worrying statements. "Maybe you should go see—"

"I  _don't_  need a doctor." Sabo interrupted, eyes growing alert once more. "It's probably just exhaustion and stress. The fire always goes wonky whenever I'm tired." He stood shakily, brushing off Jack's hands and shooting him a weak smile. "I'm fine. I think I'm just going to go lay down for a little bit."

The Revolutionary stumbled out the door, one hand pressed to his head. Jack frowned and turned to Bunny, intending to voice one of the many concerns he had, only to pause when he saw the Guardian of Hope's expression. Bunny's ears were flat against his head, his eyes round with shock. The Guardian of Fun could not blame him. Even though the Pooka had run into all sorts of strange powers and characters, it was still startling to see someone burst into flames. But that was not what caught the Winter Spirit's attention. Bunny's emerald eyes were dark and shone with more concern than anyone should feel towards someone that was practically a stranger.

"He has fire powers?" Bunny asked lowly.

"Yeah. He's a fire Logia. He ate Ace's old fruit, the Mera Mera no Mi." Jack said. He hesitated, then nudged the Pooka playfully. "What's with that face? You scared? I didn't know you were afraid of a little fire, Kangaroo."

"I'm not." The Pooka said, not taking the bait.

Jack's smile faded as he registered the grave tone in Bunny's voice. The Guardian of Hope glanced around in a way that he might have been intended to be casual.

"Has Ace mentioned sensing something in Sabo, or feeling… agitated around him?" the Pooka asked.

Jack's brow crinkled as he considered the question. "No. Why?"

Bunny's ears went ramrod straight and swiveled. His jaw shut with a click. "I'll explain later, once Firecracker wakes up. It's not— It's really— " He gave a frustrated sound. "It's  _instinct_ , you see and—  _Later_." He turned towards the door. "I'll go send someone in—"

The Winter Spirit grabbed the Guardian of Hope's shoulder before he could leave. "Oh no no  _no_. You can't just walk out after saying something like that."

The Pooka pulled his arm out of Jack's grasp. "I have to. It's too easy for some mongrel to listen in. Just…" Bunny's expression twisted with indecision before his eyes hardened. "Make sure to ask about Sabo when Ace wakes up, alright?"

The first pricks of icy anger settled in Jack's chest. " _Why?_ Come on, you have to give me something."

Bunny hesitated and glanced around, ears turning again. He huffed, crossing his arms. "Let's just say that if Ace and Sabo fight over that fire, Firecracker is going to win." The Pooka shook his head stiffly. "Scratch that. It wouldn't be a fight at all. Ace would just take it."

The curt sentences explained little to nothing, instead giving Jack a thousand more questions. "What in Manny's name are you talking about? What fire? Why would Ace and Sabo fight for it? What are you…?" His eyes narrowed. "Does this have something to do with the Mera Mera no Mi?"

"Yes and no." Bunny told him bluntly. "Though in this specific case, yes."

Jack's first thought was that the Pooka was insinuating that Ace wanted his old fruit back. The burst of instinctive outrage on his brother's behalf was quickly snuffed out as he considered Bunny's words further. Ace had fire powers. Sabo had a fire Devil Fruit. Apparently that meant Ace would want to 'take' the fire in Sabo. The Winter Spirit was hopelessly lost and confused, lacking a lot of information that Bunny mulishly refused to share, but the scenario sounded strangely familiar…

_Didn't Ace mention that Pitch took control of Blackbeard's darkness?_

Jack felt the need to grab the bucket he had gotten for Sabo. Comprehension was a terrible thing, and if the Winter Spirit's initial thoughts were on the right path, he wished he had remained ignorant. Ace would never intentionally hurt Sabo. To even think such a thing was possible was ludicrous. But Bunny had dropped cryptic hints about 'instincts' and 'sensing' fire and 'taking' said fire. The Summer Spirit may not try to 'grab' the fire in Sabo consciously, but  _subconsciously_ …

_But_ _**why** _ _? What's the connection?_

Someone with the answers stood right in front of him, and would not share anything. Jack felt justified in his frustration.

Bunny raised a paw, sensing the question on the tip of Jack's tongue. "I can't say more, Frostbite. It's too dangerous for all of us, and  _him_."

The nod in Ace's direction was enough to shrink Jack's confusion and curiosity to manageable levels, though his alarm was increased in exchange.

"Fine." he said unhappily. He jabbed a forefinger in the Pooka's direction. "You  _will_  explain later."

Bunny gave a stiff nod and strode out of the room in order to discourage further prodding, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace woke in chains. More specifically, he woke up in chains while being dragged. Manacles were locked around his neck, his hands were behind his back, and his feet could barely move a few inches apart due to the shortness of the chain binding them together.

The fire-user barely kept his footing as he was yanked across a sandy beach, so focused on not falling that he did not see his captors for a moment. His stomach churned as he realized he was a prisoner again— a helpless captive, a bargaining chip, a hostage, a person who would never be free— and had to gather his courage in order to see who his wardens were this time. When Ace finally looked up, he wished he had not.

Thatch and Izo held the ends of his chains, walking ahead of Ace without sparing him a glance to see if he was still on his feet. The cuffs pulled at his wrists, neck, and ankles, biting his flesh whenever he did not move fast enough and making him stumble near-constantly. The Commanders did not seem to care, plowing ahead stoically. None of the other people in the procession showed any concern either. Marco remained stone-faced and distant. Sabo looked forward with a slight sneer. Ace could not see Luffy's face, but his brother's fists shook with suppressed rage.

The fire-user looked ahead of the group and felt his stomach drop. He could see their destination from here. Hundreds of graves lined the shore, each engraved with the name of the fallen. As Ace stared at them, flashes appeared in his mind, and he saw each occupant's death. One man was stabbed through the stomach at Marineford. Another was transformed into a Fearling before being cut down. A third leapt between Ace and a blow, taking it for himself, only to be sliced completely in half.

The Summer Spirit did not remember any of the fallen, and that only made the guilt festering in his chest worse. These people had died because of him, and he could not even put a face to the names etched into the stones. Ace could not honor their memory or sacrifices because he had no memories of them except their brutal deaths.

The group halted before the graveyard. Ace was forced onto his knees, facing the endless sea of grey markers, and Whitebeard and his brothers halted before him. The Yonko's eyes were icy, lacking any of the warmth and kindness the fire-user was used to. Sabo's eyes were flat with revulsion and resentment. Luffy's were hidden in the shadow of his hat, but the frown pulling at his lips was enough to tell Ace what he was feeling.

Ace dipped his gaze to their feet. The manacles were digging into his wrists and ankles so he shifted his weight, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Hands landed heavily on his shoulders and he cringed. To his relief, Marco did not strike him, instead maintaining a steady pressure on him, keeping him down on his knees. He felt Whitebeard's eyes on him, and experienced a sinking feeling of déjà vu.

"I know you cannot speak to defend yourself." The Yonko said, tone frigid. "However, your actions have spoken louder than any words."

Ace kept his eyes on the ground. He did not utter a sound when Marco grabbed his hair, yanking his head up and making him look at Whitebeard. His only reaction was a slight tremble that made the chains binding him shake. His father's expression was as harsh and unforgiving as the fire-user predicted, filled with disappointment and ire that made Ace's limbs go cold with shame.

"When you became one of my sons, you promised to protect this family." Whitebeard told him. "And yet, all you've done is cause us harm. How many more of my sons died for you?"

For a second, grief broke through his cold expression, but the Yonko repressed it, refusing to show weakness to an enemy. Ace tried to portray his remorse through his own expressions, but his efforts only made Whitebeard's visage darken further.

"I have made many mistakes in my life, but asking you to join my family is the one I regret the most." The Yonko said, shifting from angry to emotionless.

Personally, Ace would rather he be bitter or shouting. The apathy in his voice was so much worse than anger, because it made it seem like Whitebeard could not even be bothered to care enough to show rage. Sabo had no such issues.

"You aren't the only one." The Revolutionary growled.

He stormed up to Ace, glaring down at him with furious blue eyes. His hand twitched and the Summer Spirit tensed, but Sabo refrained from striking him like he so obviously wanted to.

"You are the most selfish, hypocritical, lying, manipulative  _bastard_  I've ever met!" Sabo spat. "Do we really mean so little to you that you'd rather  _die_  than be with us?"

Ace recoiled, abruptly aware of the stickiness on his arms. He craned his neck and blanched white when he saw his wrists. They were covered in gashes, some as long as his forearms, each leaking red. Vague memories tried to force their way into his conscious mind but he rejected them, staring at Sabo, trying to convey his sorrow.

The Revolutionary scowled. "Don't try it. Don't play the 'misunderstood victim'. You know what you did. You were ready to abandon us because you're so  _weak_  you didn't want to live anymore."

Ace shook his head in denial. That was not it. It was true that he had harmed himself, but he regretted what he had done. He realized that he was being selfish and would hurt his brothers with his actions. He wanted to do better and change, if they would only give him another chance.

Sabo's eyes narrowed and he went to say— and likely scream at Ace— more, only to stop when Luffy put a hand on his brother's shoulder. The Straw Hat Captain stopped in front of Ace, eyes still shadowed by his hat and his fists white. The fire-user watched him warily, concern creeping into his expression as his youngest brother remained silent. For a while, there was no sound except for the waves crashing against the shore. Then finally, Luffy spoke.

"You broke your promise." Luffy said tonelessly. He reached out, gently touching Ace's right wrist and tracing one of the cuts. "And then you tried to break it again. You  _intentionally_  tried to die."

Luffy's fingers closed over the cuts and Ace grunted, pain flaring up his arm. The rubber pirate ignored his pain, squeezing his arm tighter and watching the blood drip onto the sand with a blank visage. His head tilted up and he met the Summer Spirit's flame-colored eyes. His little brother's were dark and hollow, filled only with hurt and betrayal. Ace could feel his heart breaking.

"Release Ace." Luffy requested quietly.

A few Whitebeard Pirates protested, only to go silent when the rubber pirate looked at them. Marco begrudgingly fished out the keys and unlocked Ace's chains, letting them fall to the ground. The fire-user pulled his aching arms in front of him, shuddering as he saw the extent of the damage. Something was pressed into his hands and he stared at the dagger in confusion, looking up to meet Luffy's blank eyes.

"You are a burden." The rubber pirate told him, voice dissonantly soft. "And a liar. And a fake. You don't care about your promises. You don't care about our lives. You only care about yourself and your own interests. You already know what you should do, and you had no qualms about it before, so go right ahead.  _Kill yourself._ "

His tone remained flat and not even a little goading. Like Whitebeard, he no longer had the desire to waste energy caring for or even hating the fire-user. Apparently Ace wanted to die, and everyone else thought he should die for what he had done, so it was a win-win situation for both parties. When Ace did not immediately follow through with his brother's demand, the Whitebeard Pirates began jeering and taunting him, doing what Luffy did not think was needed.

"What's the matter? Too scared to die again?"

"If you have any honor left, off yourself!"

"You already tried before. What's stopping you now, huh?"

"Too bad you didn't do this sooner. If you did, they'd still be alive."

"At least this way you won't make anyone else die for you."

"Hurry up, coward."

" _We don't want you_  anymore!"

"Be selfless for once in your life and  _do it_."

Ace could not tear his eyes away from the dagger. It was already covered in crimson, and he wondered if this was the weapon he used on himself before. His guilt was becoming suffocating again, and he was not sure he could summon the energy to even lift the knife. The Whitebeards continued to taunt and berate him, shouting his every flaw as they tried to push him to his breaking point, but Ace would not budge.

He could not take the dagger and end his life like they requested. Even with Sabo's glare and Luffy's unaffected distance, he could not find the strength— or weakness?— to give in to their demands.

_I think I want to live_ , Ace thought. He closed his eyes, wishing he could block out the insults so he could think.  _Is that selfish of me? They all hate me, and I caused them so much pain, but I still want to live. It would be better for them if I died because they would not be in as much danger and I wouldn't be dragging them down, and I could repent for everything I did but… if I died, I wouldn't have a chance to make things right._

But that was not the main problem. Sabo was disgusted with what he had done. Luffy might never forgive him for breaking his promises. Whitebeard despised him for causing the deaths of his sons. Except… they shouldn't.

_My real family would give me a second chance._

Ace opened his eyes. They stood before him; the graves, the Whitebeards, and his brothers. None of them were real. They existed in the real world, but not like this.

Even though Ace was the reason for the war at Marineford, the fight with Pitch, and the deaths that came during those battles, he was not the whole reason. He did not betray his family or turn on them and kill those fallen brothers with his own hands. It hurt to admit it, but he was merely a playing piece or pawn within the games of those more powerful than him, and as such, could not be expected to shoulder the blame for the losses.

As for Ace's most recent mistake… they would be angry at him. They would be hurt and upset and furious about what he had attempted to do. However, they would not shun him for what he had done. They would support him and be there for him —even if he did not deserve it— because they loved him, and he loved them, and deep down they would comprehend that he regretted what he did, and did not intend to leave them like that.

His real family knew him well like that. They would understand and move forward instead of blaming him for the mistakes of the past. They loved him despite his flaws and saw past them. They knew he was broken, remorseful, and caught in the past, but cared for him anyway.

For Ace, that was enough to know they would never betray or leave him.

The white flames sparked to life, enveloping the 'graves', the 'Whitebeards', and his 'brothers', and everything was gone.

ROTGOPROTGOP

"…Were you there when Ace first woke up here?"

Jack shot Thatch a confused glance, not understanding the question at first. The chef pulled his fingers through his noticeably unkempt pompadour and sighed, eyes never leaving Ace. He and Jack were on Ace-sitting duty at the moment. At first the Winter Spirit had assumed the man would sit in awkward silence, uncomfortable around someone who was a near stranger from his point of view and unable to talk about their shared interest in pranking without seeming tactless. The Guardian of Fun would have let someone take his place to avoid said awkwardness, but could not bear to leave Ace. But instead of sitting in strained silence, Thatch asked a question that felt oddly personal despite its subject material, and it took Jack a minute to comprehend it and answer.

"Yeah. I was."

Thatch nodded slowly. "I thought as much. Now that I know about you, I'm surprised you didn't freeze us all and fly away with him."

Jack's confusion about the purpose of this topic of conversation grew but he responded anyway. "I wanted to, but I knew Ace would be mad if I did. He really wanted to beat Whitebeard."

"Yeah. He had a lot of fight in him. And determination. And mulish, cocky stubbornness." Thatch chuckled a little. His smile quickly faded. "At first I wasn't really sure about the kid, you know? He seemed a little too obsessed with his goal to ever want to be one of us. Back then, I thought he would give up and leave… but he grew on me. He acted like a rabid, cornered wolf ninety percent of the time but he grew on me."

Jack did not say anything, watching the chef from the corner of his eye.

Thatch continued to stare at Ace's unmoving form, eyes glazed. "Occasionally he'd smile or laugh. He'd act curious or childish. He'd ask questions or help around the ship when people asked. When he did that— when he opened up— he was bright like a sun. And sometimes when he did that…" The chef's eyes squeezed shut. "… I'd wonder if we'd ruin him."

Jack felt something stir in his chest, but he kept his silence.

"His brightness was one of the reasons I wanted him to join us, but it was also a reason why I didn't. Being a pirate is dangerous, and in some ways, being a Whitebeard is even more so. A part of me worried that something would happen that would cause that brightness to dim, but I rationalized that we'd be strong enough to stop that from happening." Thatch looked down, a single tear trickling down his cheek. "I was wrong. Ace became one of us, and because of that, he went after Blackbeard. He was captured, and he died, and even when he came back we still managed to fail him. All we managed to do was  _hurt_   _him!_ "

Thatch's fists slammed into the arms of his chair, cracking the wood. The chef lowered his head into his hands. "Do you regret not whisking him away from us?" Thatch whispered. "Do you hate us for letting this happen?"

"Of course not." Jack said plainly. "I didn't always feel that way, but I do now, and that's what matters." His brow furrowed. "Where did all this doubt come from?"

_I swear, if it turns out he's been having nightmares about this I'm going to—_

"I may have overheard you talking to the Guardians." Thatch admitted lowly, avoiding his gaze. "You told them about how we met Ace and they were… shocked."

The Winter Spirit recalled their reactions. North, Tooth, and Bunny had been horrified to hear that Ace had essentially been kidnapped and imprisoned by an 'enemy' he now considered his father, and it had taken a lot of explaining and assurances to convince them that the fire-user was not suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.

"That made me remember the anger you showed after Oyaji knocked the kid out." Thatch continued. "You tried to ice us all. Not that I blame you for it."

Jack frowned at his despondent tone. It was obvious the Guardians' response to their recruitment of Ace bothered Thatch greatly. The Winter Spirit had an idea of why. It had to hurt to hear good people doubt you and your motives, picking them apart in a way that made a person question if they had done the right thing. Still, Thatch's concerns were ridiculous. Now Jack just had to convince him of that.

"Maybe your methods were a little brutish, but none of that matters now." The Winter Spirit said. "In the end, it was Ace's choice to become a part of your family. You  _gave him_  a family, a father, and brothers who love him. That's why— no matter what happened— he'll never regret joining you, and you shouldn't either."

Slowly, Thatch's miserable expression transformed and a smile worked its way onto his face. "I think you might be right. Thanks, Jack."

"No problem." The Guardian said. He glanced at his sleeping brother and held back a sigh.  _If only I could reassure Ace and help him too…_

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace woke in the cell.

He did not open his eyes, but he knew exactly where he resided. He felt the manacles around his ankles and wrists, the coldness of the stone against his back, and the chill that clung to his skin. He smelled the staleness of the air, accompanied by the scent of decay, illness, and death. He heard the clinking of metal, his own heartbeat and breathing, and footsteps. The footsteps got louder and louder, closer and closer.

Then they stopped.

Ace waited. So did Pitch. Neither spoke or moved.

The fire-user could not prevent his muscles from tensing but his heartbeat remained steady and slow. A part of him wanted to press against the wall and curl up, to scream or cry or preemptively beg, but that piece was surprisingly distant and quiet. Maybe it was because Pitch had yet to attack or speak to him, though knowing the Nightmare King, he might just be lulling the Summer Spirit into a false sense of security.

A hand touched Ace's face then, brushing back his hair slightly. The movement reminded him of the times Jack had checked his forehead for injury after a fall or scuffle and for a second he pressed into the cool palm, relaxing. Then the fingers clenched, gripping the black locks painfully, and Ace gasped as his head was pulled backwards, his chin forced upwards. His eyes opened and met yellow irises filled with utter loathing, and he felt the familiar prick of a knife against his jugular.

"Hello,  _boy_." Pitch hissed. "I'm  _so_  happy to see you again. Though I have to admit, I thought I'd have to wait longer."

The first slash cut open Ace's throat, killing him instantly.

The nightmare reset, and Pitch slid the dagger between the fire-user's ribs.

It reset, and Ace received a blow to the throat that crushed his windpipe. He faded after a few, agonizing minutes, and the world reset.

Disemboweled. Reset.

Every bone in his arms, legs, hands, and feet snapped, dagger in the chest. Reset.

Ribcage brutally crushed. Reset.

Organs removed, one by one. Reset.

Hacked off limbs, left to bleed out. Reset.

Bisected. Reset.

Mauled by Fearlings. Reset.

Heart ripped out by hand. Reset.

Pitch stabbed out his right eye, then his left, before finishing him off with a deep slice up his torso. Reset.

Ace's consciousness returned to the cell and he flinched on instinct when Pitch's shadow fell over him. The Nightmare King feigned a jab at him, resulting in another flinch, and laughed at his prisoner's fear.

"Oh, how cathartic it is to kill you again and again! How are you feeling, boy?" Pitch asked sadistically. "How  _afraid_ are you?"

The emphasized word burrowed its way into Ace's mind and his panic was tethered by a strange, strengthening warmth. The fire-user shivered, gasping as his body recovered from the shock of 'dying' hundreds of times in a matter of minutes. He opted to keep his gaze directed downward.

"You don't have to do this." Ace whispered and felt a glimmer of surprise at himself.

The Summer Spirit's words might have been seen as begging for mercy if not for his tone. It was too calm and controlled, the exact opposite of how he had assumed he would react when he saw the Nightmare King again. Maybe his fear of the Pitch was not as overwhelming as he thought. Maybe Ace still wanted to die. Or maybe, just maybe he truly believed what he said.

Pitch noticed the dissonance too, but swiftly dismissed that knowledge in favor of a sneer. "Are you truly going to utter such spineless drivel? I thought you were better than that."

"I  _know_  you're better than this." Ace retorted. The fear crept closer, becoming strong enough to sink its claws into his chest and squeeze. Despite it, the Summer Spirit pushed onward. "I mean it. You don't have to do what your instincts— what the  _Fearlings_ — want you to. You don't have to hurt me or other people, or spread fear. If you  _fight_  you can—"

His jaw clicked shut as the dagger returned to his neck, slitting the skin just enough to draw blood.

"Stop. It." Pitch snarled. "Stop trying to appeal to my ' _better nature_.'"

The last words were spoken scathingly, and with no small amount of rage. Somehow, the tone did not intimidate Ace. Ignoring the dagger menacing him, the Summer Spirit tipped his head slightly, the movement curious rather than mocking.

"Or what?" he asked. "You'll kill me in the real world? You could have before, multiple times. You didn't."

Pitch stabbed him in the side, making Ace flinch. The Nightmare King grinned, twisting the blade, and took a moment to watch the Summer Spirit shudder and writhe.

"The only reason I haven't killed you is because I want you to  _suffer_." He yanked the knife out and Ace hunched in on himself, clenching his teeth.

"That's a l-lie." He panted, doing his best to ignore the sticky liquid he could feel trickling down his side.

The fire-user shifted his weight in an attempt to lessen the flow of blood and frowned as the manacles clinked. The chains were so annoying. Ace wished they would go away so he could lower his arms and put pressure on his wound.

"Really now?" Pitch smirked, amused and delighted by his prisoner's naiveté. "Please, do tell me my reasons then."

Ace took a second to regulate his breathing before responding. "I think a part of you doesn't want to hurt me." he claimed levelly. "I don't know why. Maybe I remind you of your daughter, or yourself, or who you used to be?"

He asked the question openly and rhetorically, and it was telling when Pitch did not immediately stab him again for mentioning Mother Nature. Instead the Nightmare King was frozen, unmoving. Then a shiver went through Pitch and he shook himself, regaining his standard, mocking smirk.

"Well, aren't you just adorable? Or maybe you're just  _stupid_. Either way, I think there's something you have failed to understand." Pitch said like he was speaking to a small, foolish child. He reached out and cupped Ace's cheek, and it took more willpower than the fire-user liked not to shrink away. "I am a manipulator. I  _pretend_. Do you honestly think I care one iota for you?  _No_ , foolish boy. It's all part of the game. I was fully aware of what you would think when I 'spared' you."

The Nightmare King put on a high-pitched falsetto. "'Maybe there's some good in him.' 'Maybe Kozmotis is in there.' 'Maybe he isn't so bad.' 'Maybe he can change!'  _ **No.**_ " The last word was uttered as an echoing, feral snarl. "I engineered your reactions. I  _fabricated_  my 'compassionate' actions around you so you would believe what I intended. I did it for nothing more than my own amusement and to see the betrayed look on your face when you came to me with hope and I  _crushed_  it. However, your more recent actions have made me a little…  _upset_."

Pitch's fingers clenched. Ace gave a muffled scream as he felt his cheekbone and jaw creak under the pressure the Nightmare King exuded, straining and thrashing as he instinctively tried to get away. Pitch kept pushing, forcing the Summer Spirit's head sideways at and awkward angle, and for a moment, Ace thought the Spirit of Fear was trying to horrifically break his neck.

Abruptly, Pitch pulled him up by his hair and slammed his head into the wall before releasing him. Ace sank into the pain for a moment before he pushed it aside as best he could, refusing to dwell on it. His cheek was stinging and swollen and his eyes burned with unshod tears, but he still lifted his head, staring into cold eclipses.

"Still think I'm 'good inside somewhere',  _boy_?" Pitch hissed. "Don't be ridiculous. You're not  _miraculously_  seeing the truth. You're just falling for your shattered mind's tricks." He poked Ace's forehead with his dagger, releasing a few drops of blood. "You're a broken soul searching for a way to 'reform' your captor. Isn't that just the most pathetic thing you've ever heard?" The Nightmare King gave him a demonic grin, teeth sharp and unnatural.

Ace refused to break his gaze, even as blood dripped over his eye. "Whatever you say,  _Kozmotis_."

The punch to the jaw was expected. The knife to his throat as well. The decision to change its position and plunge it into his gut less so. Ace managed to avert his attention to the hand pulling at his hair instead of the knife slicing through his stomach, focusing on that instead of what he could distantly feel pouring out of his abdomen.

_It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. Breathe._

"How much do I have to  _ **break you**_  before you realize your folly?" Pitch snarled. "You're so infuriatingly idiotic! How can someone be so  _braindead?_ " His expression went cold. "Do I have to go kill your brothers to make you understand  _what I am_?"

Ace's fear barely lasted long enough for him to register it, vanishing as soon as it came. His lips curled upward and he grinned bloodily at the Nightmare King, who actually took a step back.

"You're really good at pretending, Pitch." He mumbled. "If you really wanted to kill my brothers to hurt me, you would have a long time ago. You had lotsa—" He almost giggled as he spat up a glob of blood. "—opportunities. But you didn't. Thank you."

Pitch stared at him. "I think I understand now." He said eventually. "Your sanity is  _already_  broken beyond repair. You're too far gone to comprehend that a lack of action is  _not_  kindness, and too deep in your delusions to accept the truth. That makes this all so much less satisfying. Still, I suppose I can attempt to  _beat_  the reality into you."

Ace could not stop himself from gasping as Pitch grabbed his throat, giving him a shake and bashing his head into the wall in the process. The Nightmare King leaned in, breath icy cold against the Summer Spirit's ear.

"I am a  _monster_." He snarled. "And no one; not you, not Tsar Lunar, not Emily Jane, and certainly  _not_  Kozmotis—" His expression froze and distorted into one of utter loathing— and slight fear? "— _Shut up_   _you blithering fool!_ — can change that!"

The slip up was so blatant that it had to be intentional. Ace had a feeling it wasn't on Pitch's part, however. Then again, nightmares were weird. Could thoughts be exposed in a world that technically existed within the mind? The Summer Spirit supposed it did not matter, but the revelation certainly did.

Ace looked at Pitch, eyes wide. "It's true." he whispered. "Kozmotis  _is_  in there somewhere."

The last remnants of his fear drained away, leaving behind a surge of compassion. Pitch physically recoiled, disgusted, and Ace had to wonder if the Nightmare King could see the empathy in his expression.

"I know you're in there. I know what you must be feeling. You're not a monster, Kozmotis, Pitch." He said softly. "What happened wasn't your fault. I know how hard it is to fight the sand  _with_  Mother Nature's safeguards, and you had to do without. You faced the Fearlings alone—"

Pitch stabbed him in the chest, spilling his blood onto the floor.

When Ace's awareness returned to the cell, he did not even pause, continuing to speak. "—without a chance of winning, but you fought anyway. You're still fighting, too. You never stopped fighting. If you did, Kozmotis would be long dead, but he's not.  _You're_  not. You're still here—"

Pitch struck him so hard across the face he felt his cheekbone break. Ace's vision grew spotty and black spots blinked into and out of existence in front of his eyes. The Nightmare King stabbed him in the hand, pinning it to the wall, and his resulting cry became a pained gasp when Pitch coldly stomped on his foot, crushing the bones.

" _Shut up!_ " the Nightmare King roared. " _Shut. UP!_  I'll beat you! _I'll break you!_ _ **I'll figure out a way…**_ "

His fingers clenched into claws and his eyes roamed over Ace's body, thinking, plotting, and trying to figure out a way to shatter his mind into irreparable pieces. The fire-user remained calm and unaffected by his rage. Even when Pitch reached for his head— likely to rip out his eyes or throat again— Ace was not afraid. Even as Pitch grabbed his chin with one hand, squeezing his jaw roughly, the Summer Spirit remained still and placid.

The Nightmare King had hurt Ace in reality and in dreams more times than he could count. He had imprisoned the fire-user, threatened him, and tortured him mentally, physically, and emotionally. His actions had made Ace permanently mute and scarred. And yet Ace could not fear him. Not anymore. Perhaps it was because the fire-user had gotten stronger. Perhaps it was because he had finally faced his fears. Or maybe it was because he now knew there was a man inside the monster, a man who had been supposedly broken and devoured, yet was still fighting, and still  _existed_.

"Kozmotis…" Ace murmured, and Pitch's eyes snapped to his, head twitching oddly as the Spirit of Fear realized he had responded to the name. The Summer Spirit smiled gently at him. " _I believe in you._ "

The Nightmare King  _shrieked_ — an unsettling sound filled with fury, horror, and anguish— and ran him through. The blow did not 'kill' Ace this time, and he felt Pitch's cruel grip on his consciousness. His captor was keeping him trapped in the nightmare again, refusing to let him follow the logic of reality and pass away. The Spirit of Fear kept stabbing him, making his torso look more like butchered meat than human flesh, and still the fear did not return.

Instead, Ace felt calm, annoyed, and maybe a little angry. Pitch was holding him here. He was controlling him. Wasn't that against what the Summer Spirit's center stood for? This was a dream.  _Ace's_  dream. His mind. He was the one who had control here. Not Pitch. Not anymore.

When the dagger touched Ace's skin again, it shattered like it had struck steel. Pitch stumbled back, eyes wild and unhinged. His fists clenched and shook at his sides, and when he spoke, his voice was a crazed roar.

"No! You cannot do this!" the Nightmare King ranted. " **You cannot beat fear!** "

Ace looked Pitch directly in the eyes, regaining his serene smile. "I _already have_."

The chains shattered.

The cell crumbled.

White flames roared.

And Ace woke up.


	39. Rest

At first, Jack did not notice that Ace was awake. The Guardian of Fun's eyes stayed on the heart monitor, watching the line jump and dive rhythmically. The movement was hypnotic and soothing, and the Winter Spirit was certain that if he were a human, he would be lulled to sleep by its melody. He had already taken his nap for the week though, so he remained alert, if slightly unfocused.

Only Luffy's gasp alerted him that something had changed. The rubber pirate sprang from his seat, falling to his knees beside Ace's bed, and reached out to touch his brother's face. Jack stood and went to stop his little brother, but froze when Luffy spoke in a small, tremulous voice.

"Ace?"

The fire-user's head shifted and Jack met exhausted flame-colored eyes. Ace smiled weakly. His skin was still as pale as snow, and the sweat lingering on his brow made the Guardian want to check his forehead for a fever. Refraining from giving in to his 'mother hen' side, Jack crept forward cautiously, as if he feared any movement would cause what he saw to be revealed as a fantasy, and carefully placed his hand in Ace's. The Summer Spirit's fingers twitched and put the slightest bit of pressure on Jack's.

Luffy realized what had happened first and gave a joyous laugh, hugging his brother tightly. Pain flashed across Ace's expression but he returned the embrace. The rubber pirate noticed his discomfort and loosened his grip.

"You're awake!" He said, tears streaming down his cheeks. "You're okay. I was so scared."

Ace's eyes darkened with remorse and he patted his brother's back sluggishly. The effort was apparently too much for him because his arms fell limply to the bed, his breathing growing ragged. Luffy's first instinct was to panic.

"What's wrong?" he yelped. "Are you okay? I'll go get Bay!"

He raced out the door before Jack could try to stop him. Sending a mental plea to Tsar Lunar that the Straw Hat Captain did not create a panic, the Guardian sat on Ace's bed. The Winter Spirit cleared his throat, struggling for a moment, and tried to find his voice.

"…Hey."

The word was nowhere close to being what he really wanted to say, but he could not utter anything more. Ace was awake. After nearly three days in a coma-like state, he was conscious. Jack's brain refused to comprehend that fact. It was only when the fire-user shifted closer to him— trying to reassure him or merely desiring physical contact— that he understood, and then he was no better than Luffy. His hug was much gentler than what the exuberant rubber pirate was capable of, and he pressed his cheek to Ace's hair, biting his lip and trying not to cry.

"I'm so happy you're up, kiddo. You had me worried."

Jack felt Ace moving and leaned back to see the fire-user looking around. Guessing what he was searching for, the Guardian grabbed his notebook off the side table and handed it to him. The fire-user shot him a grateful look and opened it. More accurately, he tried and failed to grab the page a couple times before dropping the notebook on the bed and deciding the page it opened to was good enough. The Winter Spirit was careful to keep his concern off his face as Ace wrote his message in large, messy letters, incapable of being more precise.

" _Sand?"_

"It's gone." Jack answered immediately. "Unless you're hiding it under…" He tore his eyes away from the bandages on Ace's wrists before the fire-user could notice where he was looking. "…your clothes." The Winter Spirit forced a laugh that may have held a bit of a sob and changed the subject. "You know, you really surprised me just now. I was sitting here, expecting some flashy fire-show when you beat the sand, but instead you just woke up all sneakily. How rude."

He gave his brother a teasing— and  _very_  gentle— nudge with his elbow. Ace's lips curled upward and he tried to write. Instead he dropped the pen. The fire-user stared at it in disgust for a second before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Before Jack could say anything, Ace grabbed at the fallen writing instrument, successfully picking it up again after a couple tries. He put the pen to the page and paused, eyelids fluttering. Something crumpled in his expression before he put it under control.

"You okay?" Jack asked.

Ace looked at him, deep shadows under his eyes. " _Tired."_

That made sense. Even though Ace had just been sleeping, he had not been  _resting_. His body had not been given time to recover and recuperate. He had been fighting the sand, nightmares, and Pitch, as he had been doing for months, and it was only now that he could sleep without being stuck in bad dreams. No wonder he was so sluggish.

Jack petted Ace's black hair, brushing his fingers through his messy locks. "I know, kiddo. But try to stay awake until Bay can look you over, okay?"

Ace nodded lethargically, eyes half-closed. He barely reacted when Bay rushed through the door, causing the knob to smack into the wall and crack it. The doctor's frantic pace slowed as she spotted Ace and she calmed down, putting on a more professional aura as she approached.

"Nice to see you're finally up. Let's have a look at you, shall we?" she asked lightly.

After receiving a nod of assent, Bay began to check him over. Ace kept his eyes on Jack instead of following the doctor's movements, and the Winter Spirit held his gaze. It was hard to maintain his encouraging expression when Bay removed the wrappings around his brother's wrists, searching for black marks and replacing the bandages without comment.

The Summer Spirit took note of her application but did nothing more than adopt a distantly puzzled expression. Jack wondered if Ace had forgotten what he had done, did not want to talk about it, or was too tired to attempt to explain himself. Any of those possibilities were worrisome but if the fire-user did remember when he was more coherent, the Guardian would not force him to explain just yet, and he'd freeze anyone who tried. Ace needed to rest and relax, not be interrogated. Yet.

After about ten minutes of careful scrutiny, Bay sat back, removing her gloves. "The sand is completely gone." She reported.

Ace gave a shuddering breath and looked away from her. Jack watched his face switch from confusion, to happiness, to anxiety and back again as his brother struggled to comprehend that the poison plaguing him for so long was vanquished. The Winter Spirit could not blame him for his disbelief. Jack had no idea what happened in the fire-user's head— well, he did, and he might want to talk to Ace about that later— but from an outside point of view, the transition almost seemed too peaceful. Jack had not even noticed when the last of the sand had been incinerated, though the marks being below Ace's clothes or bandages could be an easy enough explanation as to why.

Jack saw the exact moment the news hit Ace as flame-colored eyes grew glassy, brimming with tears. The Summer Spirit lifted his arm like he was unused to the weight of it, rubbing at his eyes before letting the limb fall back to the sheet. The Winter Spirit was beginning to grow nervous that something other than exhaustion was afflicting his brother, but Bay had checked his vitals while looking for the sand and had not said anything. The doctor looked between her tearful patient and his watchful brother.

"Jack told me a bit about your… 'freeing' white flames, and theorized that was what you were using to destroy the sand." She said eventually. "Is that true?"

Ace blinked at her slowly, taking longer than normal to respond but managed a minute nod. Even though the confirmation overjoyed him, Jack frowned at the doctor, wishing she would wait a bit to ask questions. He understood the reason for Bay's impatience though. Ace's white fire was an enigma they did not know the full potential of yet. Here it had destroyed the black sand. During the battle it had done  _something_  to Fearlings and Pitch. His 'center' could be a game changer and lifesaver for their side.

What exactly could the flames do? What had they done to Pitch? Could the flames free the souls in Fearlings? Could it return them to their untransformed state? It would be beneficial to figure out how the white fire worked and it they did, but Ace was barely coherent enough to acknowledge the doctor at the moment. Jack remembered Bunny's warning but pushed that problem away to be dealt with later. Ace was in no state to have that little issue dumped on him, and the Guardian of Fun doubted he would even recall the conversation next time he woke up.

The Summer Spirit's eyelids were at half mast, cloudy and unfocused. Then Ace's eyes opened fully and he tried to sit up. Jack gently pushed his brother back down, and the fire-user batted at his arm in silent protest. The Guardian was sure that a drifting leaf could hit him with more force than Ace mustered.

"Is something wrong?" Bay asked, troubled by her patient's futile efforts. "What do you need?"

Ace shook his head and smacked his hand into the tabletop instead of picking up his notebook. He withdrew the smarting limb, childishly bewildered, and smiled gratefully when Jack placed the paper and pen in his hands.

" _I need to help Marco now."_

It was obvious Ace barely had the energy to write the protest, and the words themselves were almost illegible. Jack watched him try and fail to get into a sitting position again and was not the only one to shake their head in vehement denial.

"Marco can wait." Bay said firmly, voicing Jack's thoughts. " _You_  need to rest."

Ace looked unconvinced. _"Not yet. I still should see the others. They've been waiting."_

Jack could practically see the thoughts going through the Summer Spirit's head. Ace had a way to help Marco and they were making the Phoenix suffer a few more hours just so the fire-user could sleep. His other loved ones had been sitting at his bedside, eagerly anticipating the moment he woke, and now he was expected to leave them hanging again. Ace was supposed to be up and about now that the sand was out of him, not heading back to dreamland.

"They can wait a little longer." Jack said firmly. Ace went to write more but the Guardian took hold of his arm. He rubbed circles on the back of his brother's hand. "Ace, you need to worry about  _yourself_  right now." He chided gently. "You can rest. You don't need to concern yourself with anything."

Bay slipped out silently as Ace stared at Jack through half-lidded eyes. The Guardian was willing to bet she was going to reassure Sabo and Luffy, and ensure no one came barging into the room. As much as they would resent it, Ace could not have visitors yet. He needed to rest and regain his strength before he could even consider facing his brothers and friends.

Ace's eyelids fluttered, sliding closed, and the fire-user forced them apart again. Distress shone in his every muscle and his gaze darted about. His breathing quickened and Jack saw him fight against the tiredness seeking to claim him. The Summer Spirit tried to sit up again, but the Guardian was having none of it.

"Ace." Jack repeated his brother's name until he looked at him. "You need to sleep."

Ace slumped against his pillow, freckles standing out starkly on his ashen cheeks. He looked ready to object, but could not manage to write his argument. The fire-user sighed, eyelashes brushing gently against the dark splotches beneath his eyelids. Then his flame-colored eyes snapped open. His muscles bunched and shook with effort as he grasped his notebook. Apprehension shone in his expression.

" _What if I dream?"_

Ace looked terrified by the prospect, his flame-colored eyes wide with fear. What if he couldn't escape the nightmares? How would he know that they were not influenced by Pitch? Even worse, what if they  _weren't_  created by the Nightmare King? What if he experienced mundane bad dreams that he might never break free of?

Jack understood. "Then I'll wake you up. I can't give you a dreamless sleep, but if you do get a nightmare, you won't be stuck. I promise I'll watch you."

Ace's eyes were glassy again, and a few tears slipped down his face. _"Can I really sleep now?"_

Jack felt his heart break a little more as he read the question and saw the brittle, hopeful expression on Ace's face. It was almost like he expected them to say no and was trying to prepare himself to stay awake for a few more hours. The Guardian prayed that the fire-user was asking because he wanted to make sure the Winter Spirit did not want to talk about anything else and  _not_  because he felt obligated to, like Ace's own health was less important than appeasing his friends.

"Yes, you can." The Guardian said as gently as he could.

Ace blinked slowly, eyes already heavy. He groped blindly for his notebook and wrote one more request.  _"Stay?"_

"Of course." Jack promised. "I won't leave your side."

Ace's flame-colored eyes softened and slipped closed, and he was out like a light.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack watched Ace's chest rise and fall, each inhalation and exhalation even and slow. Occasionally, the fire-user's expression would twitch— making the Winter Spirit's muscles tense in response— before he would shift slightly, settling peacefully once more without waking.

The Guardian of Fun let his gaze flick to the steadily beeping machines connected to Ace before allowing it to drift over his brother's frame. Icy blue eyes briefly took in every inch of ashen skin he could see and he sighed. He still could hardly comprehend the complete lack of black marks marring Ace's flesh, even though it had been more than thirty-six hours since the Summer Spirit eliminated the black sand and woke up. Thirty-six hours later, and Ace still showed no signs of waking again.

"He's still sleeping?"

Jack tore his eyes away from Ace's face, acknowledging Tooth with a nod. "Yeah."

The Fairy took in his expression and fluttered over to him, encasing him in a warm hug. "The sand is gone. He's going to be okay." she soothed.

"I… I know that." Jack mumbled, keeping his eyes on his sleeping brother. "I just want to be sure."

Jack might feel more at ease if Ace was not being so  _quiet_. The fire-user used to flop around randomly, mumble odd phrases that made no sense, or snore loud enough to wake the dead when he slept, but now he remained almost completely still and silent. If the Winter Spirit strained his ears he could just barely hear his brother's soft breathing.

"What if he's still having nightmares?" he whispered. "Normal nightmares, I mean. What if he still can't sleep dreamlessly? What if he's scared right now and I can't tell? I promised I'd help him if he had a bad dream but he looks so peaceful. What if that's his default now and even when he's terrified he doesn't move or show that he's—?"

Tooth's arms tightened around him and he grew silent. The Guardian of Memories let go, keeping a hand on his back as her other one wrapped around his fingers.

"Ace is  _fine_ , Jack. His body is just recovering and restoring his energy. I'm certain that he's too exhausted to dream. He isn't in danger."

Jack wished he had Tooth's confidence. He let go of her hand, stretching his arm out, and forced it to fall before he could touch Ace and risk waking him.

"Is there something you needed?" he asked belatedly.

If Tooth was not impressed by his change of subject, she did not show it. "I just came to give you some company. The others are busy at the moment."

A new source of worry crept into Jack. "Has something happened?"

Tooth settled daintily in a chair, wings twitching. "I'm not sure if it's true but I heard that the Allied Captains are leaving to go defend Whitebeard's territories. Apparently they're under attack from Fearlings." When Jack shot her a shocked look, she elaborated. "I overheard one of the Commanders ordering his subordinate to inform Whitebeard. A few of the islands called for assistance through the—" She paused as she tried to remember the right word. "—'Den Den'?"

Jack slumped in his chair, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Great. Do I need to go stop Luffy from doing something stupid?"

Despite the circumstances, Tooth gave a light chuckle. "I don't think so. He hasn't run off as far as I know so we might be okay. Last I saw, he was with Shanks."

Jack's expression softened.  _So he finally decided to talk to him, huh? About time._

Both Guardians looked up as the door opened, revealing Marco. The Phoenix froze in the doorway, surprise flashing across his face when he saw Tooth. Then his features settled into his normal, bored expression.

"Toothiana. I didn't expect to find you here."

The Fairy gave a welcoming smile. "Jack was alone so I decided to sit with him."

"Hmm." The Phoenix grunted vaguely.

He winced, hand twitching towards his chest. Tooth instantly rose from her chair and Marco practically fell into it without objecting. Well, the drop was too graceful to truly be considered 'falling' but the speed in which he hit the chair suggested the blond Commander was not fully in control of his descent.

"Thanks." He said briefly, sounding short of breath.

Jack and Tooth exchanged a worried look. The Guardian had not seen Marco at all in the past few days. He had not come to visit Ace once, instead performing his usual duties around the ship like nothing was wrong. The Winter Spirit might have been angry at him for avoiding the infirmary like the plague except he knew sitting around and doing nothing would not help the Phoenix remain conscious. Plus, he had a feeling Marco was struggling to come to terms with exactly how Ace had fallen unconscious. Jack could barely think about it himself, so he gave the First Division Commander a pass. Still, he could have dropped by just to check on Ace while he was asleep...

 _He's here now. Don't be snippy about it_ , Jack silently berated himself.

The Guardian's eyes went back to Ace— still blissfully asleep— and he played with the fabric of his shirt. He watched Marco shift in his chair, and then move again. The Phoenix either could not get comfortable or was trying to remain alert. Probably both. The Winter Spirit could barely stand to observe him. It was obvious Marco was in pain, flinching and grimacing. He looked sickly— nowhere close to Ace at his worst but still horribly ill.

After a few minutes of silence, Jack could not take it anymore. "Do you want me to—?"

" _No_."

The word was spoken harshly, nearly angrily, and the Guardian flinched. Pain flashed through Marco's expression, with another agonized emotion shining in his yellowish eyes before it was smothered by a stubborn glare.

"Don't wake Ace on my account. I can wait until he wakes up on his own and has enough energy to heal me." Marco said stubbornly. He twitched and his fingers clenched, looking as if they were digging into his pant legs.

Jack frowned at him, displeased. "Are you sure? You're not doing so—"

"I'm  _fine_ , Frost." Marco hissed, glaring, and for a second Jack swore his eyes flashed yellow. The Phoenix's teeth clenched and he closed his eyes, shaking his head. When they opened, a green hue had returned to his icy gaze. "Sorry. That was rude. I'm just a little… irritable."

"That's understandable. I couldn't imagine not being able to sleep." Tooth said sympathetically. "I'm surprised you've managed to stay awake this long."

"Yeah…" Marco murmured under his breath. His eyes went to Ace and darkened.

Jack guessed a few reasons for his sudden dip in mood. "Does Tooth need to give you the 'he's going to be fine' spiel as well?"

Marco's puzzled look morphed back into a stoic expression. "No thank you. I know he's free of the sand."

The Phoenix reached out, laying his hand on the fire-user's forehead. A pained expression crossed Ace's face and Marco twitched, withdrawing his palm. The Summer Spirit's lips parted and his hand moved, groping blindly. Instead of taking Ace's hand, Marco retreated, expression unreadable.

Jack gave him an unimpressed look and placed his own palm in his brother's. Sensing that the hold was not from the person he sought, Ace frowned unhappily but eventually calmed, features smoothing out. The Guardian of Fun noticed that Marco had his arms crossed over his chest, the pose almost defensive. A heartbreaking thought came to him and his ire drained away.

"The sand isn't contagious, you know." Jack murmured. "You can touch him."

Somehow, Marco managed to get tenser. "That's not it."

Jack raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Then what's the problem?"

Marco did not respond, instead staring at Ace vacantly. Jack frowned unhappily at the Phoenix and returned his focus to the Summer Spirit as well. The silence was becoming stifling again, like a weight was pushing down on them all, and it did not take long for the Guardian of Fun to be unable to bear it. Thankfully, he came up with a topic of conversation and sat up straight, looking at Marco once more.

"Have there been any leads about who messed up Ace's room?"

Marco jumped slightly, startled by Jack's voice, and glanced around, eyes wide and breathing rapid. The Winter Spirit realized that the Phoenix had likely almost fallen asleep. Jack exchanged a look with Tooth, spotting the horror darkening her pink eyes, and did his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

Marco put a hand to his head, massaging his temples. "…What was that?" he asked politely. Before the Guardian of Fun could repeat his question, the Phoenix tensed and turned, green-tinged eyes going to the door. "Haruta?"

The Twelfth Division Commander dithered in the doorway, lips pursed. His eyes were locked on Ace, his expression unreadable, and he did not respond to the Phoenix.

"Do you need something, Haruta?" Marco prodded.

The Twelfth Division Commander still stared at Ace, unblinking. His blue eyes seemed to darken as Jack watched, and the Winter Spirit shifted in his chair, senses tingling with alarm.

"Haruta?" Marco prompted, rising from his own seat and placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

The shorter Commander jolted in surprise. "Huh? Oh. Right. Sorry." He walked stiffly into the room, gaze roaming over all of them except Ace. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. "Oyaji needs you. We confirmed that Pitch's minions are attacking our territories, so he's sending the Allies to defend them."

Marco's gaze grew sharp, his eyes opening completely. Jack was equally invested in the Commander's news.

"Has Whitebeard decided where the Moby is going?" the Phoenix asked.

Haruta nodded. "Yeah. We, the Straw Hats, and the Red Force are heading directly to Pitch."

Marco grinned. "Good."

He almost sounded triumphant and maybe a little bit eager. Jack could not blame him. Pitch had done a lot to the Phoenix and his family, and he had every right to feel elated about finally bringing the fight to the Nightmare King. The Winter Spirit had to admit he felt a little uneasy about facing Pitch on his territory, but they did not have much of a choice. The Spirit of Fear was starting to make his move, so they needed to find and stop him as soon as they could.

The Guardian of Fun looked at Ace, thoughts drifting to the past and the future, and felt a twinge of concern in his gut. He hoped the kid would wake up soon. They needed to talk about what exactly had transpired in his nightmares. There was no doubt in Jack's mind that one of the fears Ace faced was Pitch himself, so he needed information to figure out how the Summer Spirit and Spirit of Fear might react to each other next time they met.

Jack's insides seemed to twist into more knots.  _Forget that. Not happening. I don't want Ace anywhere near that psycho again. But… the reality is that he's going to be. We're not lucky enough that Ace can avoid Pitch in the battle. That bastard is going to seek him out, and Ace is one of our heavy hitters. When you put those facts together, there's_ _ **no way**_ _that Ace won't meet Pitch again. But it'll be different this time. I'll protect him._ Warm determination ignited in his chest. _I may not be able to keep Pitch away from Ace, but I'll protect my little brother with everything I got._ The Guardian's eyes settled on the dagger at Tooth's hip.  _Even if it costs me my freedom, or my life._

Unaware of the developments around him, Ace slept on.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Sanderson Mansnoozie loved nighttime. Not just because it was the time when he gave dreams to the children of Earth, but because of the beauty found in its dark blue sky. The heavens were clear of clouds tonight, revealing bright stars and the full moon above. As he floated above a city whose lights shone like stars brought down to the Earth, Sandy looked upward, smiling at his old friend. He knew Manny was watching, even if he did not respond, and the moonbeams that shone down upon him covered him like a warm embrace.

The Guardian of Dreams sent out more golden streams of sand, watching them curve and float as they sought out slumbering children. He paused outside a window and smiled gently at one small boy's dream where he flew and danced in the sky, surrounded by caped superheroes and fighting bad guys. It was a lovely dream, but Sandy had others to attend to, so he moved on.

He just started floating upward when a moving shadow caught his eye. Sandy's golden eyes narrowed and he summoned a whip before dropping back towards the street. The shadows of the alley he landed in were deep, but he flew into them, unafraid. There were children nearby, and his every instinct screamed that those children were in danger. The slightest chance that his feelings might be right could not be ignored.

Sandy spotted a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye and spun towards it, whip snapping out towards the source. A yowl came from the shadow and a black cat leapt out of the darkness, fur fluffed and tail straight up as it dodged the attack. The Guardian of Dreams ceased his attack immediately and returned his whip to his side. His cheeks darkened with embarrassment but luckily no one was there to see his slip up. Except the Moon.

Sending a silent demand that Manny not tell Jack about this little incident, Sandy descended to the street and carefully approached the cat. The feline pressed itself into the corner between the dumpster and alley wall, fur still on end. It hissed at the Guardian, who smiled apologetically. He formed a cat out of his sand and let it approached the frightened stray. The cat's whiskers twitched in curiosity and it stepped away from the wall, sniffing the sand kitten.

Sandy had his cat rub against the other, and soon enough the black cat was purring, completely relaxed. The Guardian hesitated, considering releasing the sand and having it work its magic on the feline. His eyes roamed over its thin frame and compassion swelled in his heart. He dispersed the sand cat and approached, scooping the black cat into his arms.

The feline did not protest, though it— he— looked around for his companion, meowing sadly. Sandy noted that he had a white spot on his chest. A stray memory niggled at the back of his mind but he shrugged it off. He might as well drop the cat off at a local shelter since he did not know the area well enough to find the kitty a home.

His instincts tingled at the same time the cat gave a warning yowl. Sandy threw himself to the side as a Fearling slammed into the street, claws embedding themselves into the pavement. The Guardian put down the cat and reformed his whips. The Fearling dodged his first strike, shooting towards him like an evil specter and Sandy took to the air, the cat at his side. The Fearling pursued the Guardian, much to his relief, since that meant it was not after children yet. It was after him.

No longer grounded, Sandy was able to move easier, and his whipped snaked around the Fearling's frame, slicing it into fading shadows. The cat arched his back and hissed menacingly and the Guardian of Dreams turned, slashing apart another Fearling as it lunged for him from behind. Shoulders tense, Sandy scanned the ground for more moving shadows, spotting none. He frowned, eyes widening with alarm, and hurried back to the boy who dreamed of superheroes.

Sandy relaxed when he saw the child still had dreams and not nightmares. He checked a few more kids, finding no signs of Pitch's corruption, and sat down heavily. The black cat nudged and weaved around him, purring, and the Guardian petted it absently.

What he had just experienced was not an attack. If Pitch wanted to kill him, he would have sent thousands of Fearlings and not just two. That meant those Fearlings were likely scouts, sent to scour the area or maybe spy on Sandy himself. The Guardian was unhappy to realize he could not pinpoint how long the Fearlings had been stalking him, but pushed that thought aside to consider more important matters.

Pitch had sent Fearlings to Earth. He was gathering information. That meant that his work on the other world was almost complete. Soon, the Nightmare King was going to launch his final assault on that planet before moving on to Earth. And unless the others returned soon or Pitch was defeated there, there would only be one Guardian to defend it.


	40. Being Honest

The first emotion Ace experienced upon waking was confusion. He could not recall when he had fallen asleep, or where he had been, resulting in a faint disconcerting feeling as he failed to remember his situation. He tried to open his eyes but it was like his eyelids were made of lead, too heavy for him to lift. The fire-user felt his fingers twitch and focused on his sense of touch, trying to gain some knowledge of where he was.

He was laying on a firm but slightly soft surface— a bed?— with some type of fabric— a sheet?— pulled over him. Neither were the most comfortable he had ever been gifted, but compared to… someplace unpleasant he could not quite remember, they were heavenly.

More senses returned and Ace's nose wrinkled, struck by the sharp stench of antiseptic. Instantly, his bewilderment was overcome by panic, and a rapid beeping started up beside his head. He knew where he was now. The infirmary. More likely the 'infirmary'.

_Please Manny, not again. Shit. I should have kept feigning sleep. Maybe I can pretend to pass out?_

Ace heard the rustling of fabric and two thuds as feet hit the floor and his breathing got faster. He had not realized someone was in the room with him. He had hoped that this was one of the nightmares where he woke while alone, giving him time to prepare before the doctor came in and made his life a living hell with knives and needles and 'surgery' meant to 'fix'—

Ace's breathing stuttered and he choked, eyes snapping open. He cringed as blinding whiteness stabbed its way into his retinas, bright enough to hurt, and had to blink a few times for it to clear. Jack was leaning over him, mouth moving, but the fire-user could not hear his words over the sound of his pounding heartbeat. He kept his eyes on the Winter Spirit, refusing to take in anything else, because if there was one constant in his nightmares it was that Jack would never hurt him, ever, so if he continued staring at the Guardian and nothing else maybe he would not see when someone came to—

_The sand is gone._

The Summer Spirit felt his eyes widen but instead of calming him, the recollection only made him hyperventilate. His body refused to believe what his mind remembered, caught in its instinctive, terrified reaction to waking up in places that were usually his own personal versions of Hell, and all Ace could comprehend was that he did not want to faint like this.

Jack was making some weird exaggerated movements with his arms, raising them and letting them fall in front of his chest. The fire-user comprehended that the Winter Spirit was telling him to breathe with him and Ace stared intently at the motions, trying to sync up his own breathing pattern with them. His frantic gasping slowed with his heartbeat, and the distant, shrieking beeps he could hear became a less rapid sound. Jack smiled and stretched forward, only to freeze before he could touch Ace. He let the limb fall to his lap and the fire-user noticed his blue hoodie was gone.

"There you go, kiddo." He said soothingly. "Are you doing okay? Do you know where we are?"

Ace's eyes went to the table and he was relieved to see his notebook there, along with his hat. He ignored the orange accessory for the moment and picked up his means of communication.

" _We're on the real Moby Dick. The sand is gone."_  Even as he wrote the words a part of him waited to be proven wrong, for his recovery to all be a sadistic dream, and for the world around him to become a living nightmare—

"That's right." Jack confirmed. "This is real and you got rid of the sand. You've been asleep for two days."

Ace's eyes burned and he rubbed at them irritably. He already had a headache and crying would only make it worse and make Jack think he was upset. He was not upset. He was… was... The fire-user looked at his sand-free stomach and the burning feeling got worse. He put a hand to the side that once held the origin of his months of agony and felt the smooth skin beneath his fingers. He blinked, vision blurry, and looked at Jack with an expression he knew had to be pathetic and hopelessly confused.

Jack took a hold of his hand, squeezing it. " _The sand is gone_ , Ace."

The fire-user stared at him, still unable to comprehend it. Slowly, he cracked a smile.

There was a low creaking sound, followed by two yelps and a loud thud. Both Spirits looked to the door and Jack gave a snort. Luffy was sprawled out on the floor just inside the room, with Sabo laid unceremoniously on his back. Their hats were askew atop their heads, and both brothers sported childishly shocked expressions. The Summer Spirit could not hold in his laughter. His shoulders shook and he put a hand to his mouth despite the fact that he could not voice his mirth, struggling to hide the huge grin that formed.

From behind the two falling brothers, Bay gave an exasperated sigh and stepped over them, walking over to Ace with the air of someone who was used to being surrounded by idiots and decided not to react to their presence for the sake of her own sanity.

"Good morning, Ace." The doctor greeted. "How are you feeling today?"

The fire-user waved and gave her a thumbs up.

Jack smirked. "Hello, Bay. Why didn't you tell me you were bringing Ace some new floor decorations?"

The doctor rolled her eyes and ignored him, already checking Ace's blood pressure. Luffy and Sabo scrambled to their feet, faces beet red, and the rubber pirate instantly launched himself at the fire-user. Ace swore his blood pressure increased by fifty in that second, but Jack threw an arm out, stopping Luffy before he could tackle the Summer Spirit. Bay shot the Straw Hat Captain a murderous glare.

"Do you remember what I said before we came in here?" she asked coolly.

Luffy scuffed his foot on the ground and shot her an apprehensive grin. "I'm only allowed in if I don't get in the way while you're doing your medical thingies. I can talk to Ace once you're done."

Bay expertly removed the pressure cuff and took out her stethoscope. "And what would  _jumping on my patient_  be?"

"…Getting in the way?" Luffy asked hesitantly.

Bay's glower made him squeak and hide behind Sabo. The Revolutionary put on a charming smile that vanished when it only made the doctor look more irate.

"We'll be good." Sabo said quickly.

He guided Luffy to a chair and forced him to sit in it. Ace watched Bay put the stethoscope on different places on his chest, taking in the sand-freeness of his torso as she went. The rubber pirate moved every couple milliseconds, every posture screaming impatience, but kept dutifully quiet as the doctor worked.

The moment Bay nodded and stepped away, Luffy threw himself from his chair… and was swiftly caught by Jack again. The Winter Spirit quirked an eyebrow at the rubber pirate, who smiled sheepishly. When Jack let go, Luffy approached at a slower pace and encased Ace in a gentle— for him— hug. The fire-user still felt like his brother was trying to crush his ribs but at least they weren't creaking from strain.

"I knew you could do it!" Luffy cheered. "I knew you could beat up the sand!"

More of Ace's anxiety eased and he petted his brother's hair, eyes drooping. He mentally shook himself, determined not to fall asleep right yet. A hand on his shoulder made him look up and Sabo gave him a smile that's joy was lessened by the tiredness in his blue eyes. The Revolutionary's throat bobbed and his lips parted but instead of speaking he shook his head and stepped closer, sitting next to Ace. The fire-user went to shift over and give him more room only to freeze when Bay gave a small warning growl.

Guessing the reason for her wordless snarl, Ace glanced at the wires still attached to him unhappily. He caught sight of his sand-free arms, focusing on the bandages around his wrists. Memories returned, feeling like ice water falling over his head and he flinched violently, eliciting a startled exclamation from Luffy. The guilt he felt was less a twinge and more like being stabbed in the gut, and he could not look them in the eye, struggling to keep his remorse and shame off his face.

_That's right. I… I tried to…_  He could not finish the thought, even in his head.

"So are you gonna tell us what happened or what?" Luffy pestered, mercifully pulling Ace out of his darkening thoughts. "How'd you burn the sand?"

Ace spotted their expectant expressions and tried not to feel happy about the current subject.  _"I don't know what happened out here, but in my nightmares I faced my fears ."_  He wrote, unsure of how to explain it.  _"I just sort of eventually understood how they were illogical, I guess, and was able to break free of their hold on me, one by one."_

Luffy pouted. "So you didn't beat up a big sand monster?"

Ace shot his brother a perplexed look.

Jack's lips twitched suspiciously. "Why would he have to do that?"

After thinking about it for a time, Luffy shrugged. "I dunno. It sounds cool."

"I don't think nightmares run on what's 'cool'." Sabo commented.

His tone sounded slightly stuffy, and Ace was briefly reminded of Tooth's voice in his latest nightmare about the Guardians. The Summer Spirit's nerves trickled back but he eliminated it with a mental scoff.

_I already went through this. Nothing is going to be as bad as those dreams._

Ace's gaze returned to his arms unwillingly and he gradually became aware of a slight stinging sensation coming from the skin beneath the strips of white. He felt another pang of guilt— and horror— as he recalled what he had done. He tried not to dwell on it, but his attempts to not think about his actions on the rock only resulted in him thinking about them more.

_Do they know?_  He thought.  _Or do they think someone attacked me?_

The fire-user did not want to ask or bring it up, not yet ready to face the storm he knew would hit once the topic was breached. It was not just guilt and uneasiness that kept him from bringing up his horrific decisions, but the pressure he could feel building behind his eyes. In other words, he had a killer headache and did not think he could bear to talk about such heavy things right then. As usual, his desires were ignored.

"Are you okay?" Luffy asked, noticing his sudden melancholy. His eyes flicked down and something awfully close to fear appeared in his gaze. "Do you want to hurt yourself again?"

Ace recoiled, stunned by the raw bluntness in his brother's tone. Jack, Sabo, and Bay were equally shocked by Luffy's choice to bring up the wounds, and to Ace's horror, the Revolutionary's eyes narrowed in anger.

" _Luffy_." He hissed, using a tone he only adopted when he truly believed the rubber pirate had messed up.

The Straw Hat Captain recognized it as well and blanched. "What did I do?"

"You can't just  _ask that_." Sabo whispered, seeming to forget Ace was right there and could hear him perfectly well.

Luffy's jaw clenched, forming a scowl that made Ace's stomach drop. "You guys said you were going to ask him about whether he hurt himself."

"Not like  _that_." Sabo snapped.

Flashes of flame flared to life along his shoulders and Ace's headache grew worse. He pressed a hand to his forehead, and saw Jack give him a worried look. The fire-user waved away his concern and shut his eyes, grimacing. His brothers' argument grew more heated and continued to pound at his eardrums, their increasing volume making it seem like hammers were being slammed into his skull.

"—being weird and mean!" Luffy was claiming. "Sabo's usually so nice but now you're acting mean like Ace did when he was a kid."

Any hurt that could have come from the statement was lost in the wave of tiredness and simmering fury Ace felt. The Summer Spirit wondered if the source of his mounting, irrational anger was that Luffy was being his blunt self. Though it could also be because Sabo was acting snippier than usual and  _snarling_  at their little brother. Maybe that was why Ace was gaining the urge to grab that stupid fire that prodded at the edge of his mind like a nuisance and  _tear it out_ —

"—learn some tact!" Sabo was shouting.

"I just want to know  _why_. You do too but I think you're  _scared_  to know." Luffy snapped.

The blond-haired Logia flinched. Ace was too busy fighting to focus through the headache that was quickly becoming a migraine to even react mentally to anything being said. He could feel the pressure building, the pain increasing steadily.

The Straw Hat Pirate did not transfer his glare from Sabo. "It's not a mystery. Ace will answer. Ace isn't fragile!"

"Yes. He.  _Is!_ " The Revolutionary exploded.

Ace had enough. He lifted his notebook.

_Whack!_

_Thud!_

Eyes wide, Sabo and Luffy both clapped their hands to their smarting heads, gaping at Ace in bewilderment. Having gained his brothers' attention, the fire-user lowered his impromptu weapon and wrote in it, displeasure in his every word and expression.

" _Stop yelling at each other. You're acting like children and I have a headache. Sit down, shut up, and behave."_  He added one more word as an afterthought. _"Please."_

The brothers mutely planted their butts in their chairs. Ace laid back on his pillow and put an arm over his eyes. His head was still pounding, and it felt like the remnants of the energy he had gotten back were being drained out of him. He heard movement and lowered the limb slightly, looking at Jack and Bay. The doctor gave the two sitting brothers a disapproving look but turned back to her patient without comment.

"Can you describe your headache?"

Ace stared at her for a second, shifted his line of sight towards his notebook, and covered his eyes again.

Bay sighed but went with it. "Does the light hurt?"

The Summer Spirit nodded.

"Jack, lower the lights." The doctor ordered.

The Winter Spirit did as she said. Ace cautiously moved his arm and felt a trickle of relief.

"Better?" Bay prompted. After receiving a nod, she continued with her soft-spoken interrogation. "Do you feel nauseous? How severe is the pain? Where is it located?"

Ace shook his head to the first question, twisted his hand in a so-so motion for the second, and put his hand over his eyes again.

"Okay." The doctor said quietly. She looked to Sabo and Luffy. "I think you two should leave."

Ace looked in time to see the guilt on their faces, and despised it.  _"They don't have to."_

Bay's lips pressed into a thin line.

"We're sorry about causing trouble." Sabo interjected before she could speak. "We'll be quiet."

The doctor's dry stare conveyed how much she believed that. Instead of responding, she turned to Ace and leaned over, speaking softly in his ear. "We need to talk about what happened before you fell unconscious. I assumed that you do not want them here for that."

Ace studied his sheets, taking in every weave and flaw in the fabric. He heard Sabo inhale sharply, having overheard Bay, and braced himself.

"You're shutting us out  _again_?" the Revolutionary asked harshly.

Sabo flinched, likely shocked by his own angry tone, but did not rescind his demand. From the corner of his eye, Ace saw his brother hands curl into fists in his lap. Surprisingly, when the blond-haired Logia spoke again, his tone was less furious than it just had been. Instead he almost sounded pleading.

"We just want answers, too." Blue eyes caught Ace's gaze, filled with sorrow and an unsettling fear. The Summer Spirit felt another twinge of guilt. " _Stop_  trying to protect us. We don't need to be kept in the dark. Don't we deserve—"

"This isn't about us."

Whatever Sabo had been intending to say died without being uttered when he saw the serious look on Luffy's face. The Straw Hat Pirate returned to the bed, eyes moving over the wires still stuck in his brother's skin. He reached out, hesitated, and grabbed Ace's hand.

"I love you lots, Ace. You're my big brother. I want you to be happy." He said bluntly. "But you're not happy— or you weren't— and I bet you'll hide secrets again 'cause me and Sabo are here and Ace isn't comfortable talking in front of us. But that's okay. If you don't want to be honest with us here, that's okay too. I just want you to be honest with someone so they can help and you can get better. We'll go away so you'll speak to Bay."

Luffy meant every word. Even worse, he meant it without the slightest bit of bitterness. Ace wondered how he could have fallen so far that  _Luffy_  noticed he was uncomfortable in his presence— when dealing with the subject matter, anyway. When the fire-user considered sharing his thoughts and feelings from the time before he fell unconscious with his brothers, it felt like his lungs were being dunked in ice water and something was tying his insides into knots. It was that feeling that kept Ace from giving any type of acknowledgement to Luffy's heartfelt words, instead finding himself caught in another loop of guilt and perceived selfishness.

_I really don't deserve them._

Sabo released a gust of air, making Ace jump. "Luffy's… right. You… You  _don't_  owe us an explanation yet." It sounded like it pained him to say the words. The Revolutionary shook himself, eyes regaining their determined gleam. "You can talk with us when you're ready, but at least speak to Bay and Jack for now. Just promise me you'll tell them what happened, okay?"

Ace did not hesitate to write his reply.  _"I promise."_

Sabo's expression twisted but quickly smoothed out. "Okay. That's good enough for me." He stood up, nodded to Bay, and gave Ace a short hug. "Love you, Ace."

Sent reeling by the display of affection, the fire-user patted his back awkwardly. Sabo let go first and backed away, dragging Luffy with him. He pinned Bay and Jack with an unrelenting blue glare.

"Call us back in when you're done."

"'Kay." Jack agreed casually.

Luffy waved to Ace as he was pulled backwards out the door. In a daze, the fire-user waved back. Once the door clicked shut, his confusion and slight happiness trickled away and his arm fell to the bed. The Summer Spirit stared at his wrists, unable to tear his eyes away, and felt nausea rise up to take the place of his bewilderment.

Bay left and returned carrying a clipboard that Ace tried not to notice. The doctor sat in an empty chair and paused, eyes on Jack like she just remembered he was there.

" _He can stay."_ Ace wrote, ignoring the way his stomach churned. He could try to be honest to one of his brothers, at least.

Some of the rigidity in Bay's posture seemed to vanish. "Okay." She handed Ace a notebook, getting a questioning look from the fire-user. "You can share everything in this. It will stay locked up in my office where no one else can see it. Do you understand?"

Rather than reassure him, Ace felt his discomfort grow. Having a 'private' journal that would only be read by him, Bay, and maybe Jack was a nice thought, but it also brought up questions about why he had not been given a confidential notebook before. Though he supposed none of his other ailments and medical issues were quite like this one.

_I hurt myself. I was going to kill myself._

Ace emitted a shuddering gasp. He covered his eyes with his hand, clenching his teeth in an effort not to cry. He'd already shed enough tears and releasing more wouldn't help anybody. He felt Jack's cold palm on his shoulder and reached up with his other hand, gripping the Winter Spirit's fingers tightly.

When Bay spoke, her voice was professional. "I know this is upsetting and you want to forget what you did. That's why we need to talk about it. I can tell you don't want to, but you have to. I  _can't_  let you keep this bottled up inside, Ace." Her tone grew stern. "If I did, I would be breaking every vow I made when I became a doctor and a part of this family. I'm going to ask you questions, and I  _need_  you to answer them honestly. Please."

Swallowing repeatedly in an attempt to hold back his nausea, Ace lowered his hand and nodded. His eyes still stung but he had succeeded in holding in his tears. Jack kept his hand on the fire-user's arm, remaining a silent, supportive presence. The Summer Spirit focused on Bay, too afraid to see what the Winter Spirit was feeling.

Bay picked up her clipboard, expression neutral. "Were those wounds self-inflicted?"

Ace flinched and gritted his teeth hard enough to hear the bones scraping. His mind screamed about how much he did not want to face this or answer— and hey, how about he deflects and changes the subject?— but he pushed past his instincts, putting his pen to the page.

_I have to do this. For them, and myself._

" _Yes."_

Jack's fingers dug into his arm for a moment before the Winter Spirit relaxed his hold, realizing he was hurting Ace.

Bay stayed calm and collected. "What did you use?"

" _A scalpel from—"_  Ace crossed out the last word, hesitated, rewrote it, and continued.  _"—from Chopper's infirmary. It was on the floor and I took it and had it in my pocket since the failed surgery."_

Bay remained stoic. "Did you take the scalpel with the intention of using it to harm yourself?"

_Tell the truth._

" _Kind of. I thought I could remove the sand with it."_ He stopped again, eyes squeezing shut.  _Tell the whole truth. "I didn't see that as 'harming myself'. I saw it as a way for me to get better."_

An emotion tried to appear on Bay's face—  _Manny,_ _ **no**_ _. Please don't cry…_  — but she forced her calm mask back into place. "When and why did you choose to cut your wrists?"

_Honesty. Be honest. Not telling them will hurt them worse than telling them._ Ace tried to convince himself that would be the case, but as he wrote his reasons, he felt like he was driving a knife into his friends' chests.

" _I didn't think of it until I was on that rock in the middle of the ocean. I was so desperate to be free of the sand that I tried to remove it by cutting myself. It wasn't working and I was really frustrated so I just slashed myself."_ The tears were swimming in his eyes again. _"I think that was just an excuse though. Truthfully, I did it because I felt I deserved it, and maybe because that was something I could control? The pain was easier than the other things I was dealing with. I chose to do it. No one forced me to. It's no one's fault except mine."_

Jack finally broke his silence. "Ace…"

Ace winced as he heard the way his brother's voice cracked. The Summer Spirit kept his eyes on the notebook. If he looked at Jack and saw the hurt, anguish, and guilt that must be swimming in his blue eyes he knew he would lose his courage and refuse to share anything more.

"Did you intend to take your own life?" Bay asked.

Ace's muscles locked. The hand on his shoulder began to shake, but Jack did not withdraw his supportive hold. The fire-user wished he could share his gratitude with the Guardian for staying with him, but he still could not bear to even look at him.

Bay cleared her throat, sounding like she was trying not to choke. She continued, but her voice was obviously strained. "Tell me the truth, Ace. Did you ever think about committing suicide during that time?"

_Lie_ , Ace's instincts urged him.  _Knowing will only cause them grief._   _There's still a chance they'll believe you, and then they won't worry as much. Just give one little fib to keep them happy…_

Ace forced his hand to move. _"Yes."_  Spots appeared on the page and smudged the ink.  _"I was tired of everything. I just wanted to be free of it all. I thought I was a burden and that everyone would be better off without me, and if I died, they would finally be able to move on. I wouldn't be holding them back anymore."_ Ace pretended that he could not feel the liquid trickling down his cheeks.  _"I was going to slit my throat but I couldn't go through with it."_

Jack's trembling grew more pronounced. The fire-user felt a twinge of regret and wished he could take the words back. Deep down, he knew they had to know though. For his sake and theirs.

Bay's eyes were too bright to be dry. "Why? What changed your mind?"

Finally, Ace had an answer he was more than willing to share.  _"Manny did. He pulled me back from despair, I guess. Just a little. I don't have to become a Guardian unless_ _ **I**_ _want to be one."_

Jack made a small sound of comprehension. Ace risked a glance at him and saw that the Winter Spirit's expression had softened despite the redness rimming his eyes. The Summer Spirit chose not to think about that and continued.

" _After that, I realized what I could do to eliminate the sand. I also realized that if I died then, I couldn't…"_ It took him a moment to think of a word to describe his motives. _"…fix things. I also didn't want to leave my brothers."_

Bay's fingers were white around her clipboard but she had regained her placid mask. "Do you regret what you did?"

" _Yes."_  The guilt that still prodded at his stomach like hunger pangs was testament to that.

The doctor studied him intently. "Do you still want to die, Ace? Do you feel like you'll harm yourself again in the future?"

Ace went to confidently write his answer, only to pause. He did his best to disregard the tension that returned to Bay and Jack's frames, focusing on his own thoughts. Be truthful, he told himself, and wrote.  _"I don't want to die but I'm not sure if I'll hurt myself again."_

It felt like a betrayal that Ace could not write 'no'. But claiming he would without a doubt refrain from self-harm would be deceitful. The fire-user remembered clawing at his own skin, pinching his flesh hard enough that it bruised, pushing himself far beyond his limits for others or his own warped pride, and patiently standing in harm's way without an ounce of self-preservation or any desire to evade harm. For him, self-injury was not just taking a scalpel to his wrists. It was smaller habits that he was not sure he was completely free of. The Summer Spirit kept writing, trying to elaborate and share his fears, and the doctor waited to comment until he was done.

"Thank you for telling me all of this, Ace." Bay said sincerely, brushing a hand across her eyes suspiciously. "I can tell by your phrasing that you will not intentionally do anything as drastic as your wrists again, but I admit I share your concerns about your other… coping mechanisms." She placed a hand in his, applying the slightest bit of pressure before withdrawing.

"Acknowledging the issue is the first step to healing." A cynical smirk made its way onto her lips. "I know that sounds cliché, but it's the truth. You've gotten so much better, Ace, and I know that you'll continue to recover. The sand was a major hurdle you had to overcome, and opening up was another. I'm so proud of you for doing it."

Ace ducked his head, cheeks feeling warm. He twitched when cold arms wrapped around him, but readily leaned into Jack's embrace. The Winter Spirit's hold was tighter than usual and the fire-user immediately knew why, but did not attempt to comment on it. Jack stayed like that for longer than normal as well, seemingly unable to voice what he wanted to. Eventually— but reluctantly— he released his brother.

Ace's energy left with Jack's hug. The fire-user abruptly felt drained, physically, mentally, and emotionally. The urge to cry was gone, thankfully, but now he just felt tired. His thoughts tried to guide him down the path that he had no right to be exhausted after sleeping for so long but he stopped his mind from going there again, rubbing at his forehead.

_I'm_ _**not** _ _selfish for being tired. I need to make sure to take care of myself instead of always thinking about everyone else._

Maybe if he thought it enough, he would grow to believe it. For now, the phrases only caused him to remember his self-appointed responsibilities and he twisted on the bed, planting his feet on the floor. Jack put his hands on Ace's shoulders, stopping him before he could try to rise.

"Sorry, but I'm not helping you escape this time." He said lightly. "Not to mention that it'll hurt like hell if you pull all that out."

The Winter Spirit nodded in the direction of the machines tracking Ace's vitals. The fire-user shot a pleading look in Bay's direction. The doctor just frowned at him.

"I don't know how to interpret that. No, you can't leave, but I'll take off the wires."

Ace frowned but laid back down, pleased she was agreeing with one of his implied requests. Bay turned off the medical equipment while the fire-user impatiently watched, becoming all-too aware of the needles in his flesh. He winced as the IV was pulled from the crook of his arm, but sighed in relief when the other wires were removed from his skin.

"There." Bay said once she was done. "So would you like to tell me where you want to rush off to?"

" _I should help Marco now."_

The response was instantaneous. "No."

Ace chewed on his lip.  _"But—"_

Bay put her hand over his, shaking her head. "You're not strong enough yet, Ace."

" _Am too."_  Ace protested.

Bay's eyes narrowed but she held her tongue when Jack placed a hand on her arm and shook his head. The Winter Spirit leaned forward, staff held loosely in his hand. He blew cold air in his palm, creating a ball of snow, and placed it in Ace's hand.

"Melt this."

A little befuddled, Ace focused on the snow, trying to draw on the flames that always lingered inside. Instead of rising to his call, the fire retreated, flickering slightly. He tried to grab the flame and bring its heat to his hands but it eluded him, almost whispering in protest. The Summer Spirit did not realize he was gasping and sweating until Jack put a cold hand on his cheek, making him aware of his surroundings once more. The Guardian plucked the snowball from his fingers.

"Stop, Ace." Jack said sternly. His expression was firm, and a little sad. "See? You're still exhausted. You can't help Marco like this. Give yourself time to recover your energy." His eyes darkened. "You need to be healthy before you can even think about healing Marco, or you could both get hurt."

"I agree." Bay added before Ace could flounder in guilt. "Now, are you going to rest?"

" _I just woke up."_  Ace protested.  _"I slept for two days."_

"And you still can sleep more." Bay replied stubbornly. "No one expects you to wake up and start running in the fields."

Taking in their firm expressions, Ace sensed that this was an argument he could not win. That did not mean he wasn't going to try.  _"I'm not ready to sleep yet._ " He wrote, trying not to feel like a stubborn child.  _"Could you at least tell me what happened since I fell asleep?"_

The innocent question instantly put them on guard, making the bubble of nerves return to Ace's gut. Jack shot him a disarming smile that did nothing to lessen his fears.

The Winter Spirit's grin faded when he saw his attempt had failed. "Long story short, Pitch's goons have been attacking Whitebeard's territories. The Allied Captains went to defend them and we're heading to Pitch's island with Shanks and the Straw Hats."

Bay gave him an angry glare for not being more subtle about their circumstances, but Jack was unapologetic. Ironically, Ace's unease diminished as he heard about what he had missed. It took him a time to understand why, but when he did, he sat up straight, eyes going round. He grabbed his notebook before Jack and Bay could ask about his thoughts, writing quickly.

" _I need to talk to the Guardians right now. It's important. Get them, please."_

Bay hesitated a moment but left to do as he asked without questioning him. Ace heard her snap at Luffy and Sabo to stay out  _or else_ , and when the two did not enter the room, it showed how seriously they took her threat. Jack looked at the door, down at the snowball in his hands, back at the door, and grinned. He stepped into the doorway and threw the cold ball. There was a low thud, followed by Sabo's familiar yelp.

" _Dammit, Jack!_ " came the Revolutionary's distant shout.

Jack waved cheekily and shut the door. He turned to Ace, features smug, and the fire-user raised an eyebrow at him. The Winter Spirit shrugged unapologetically, eyes glinting with mischief.

"What? I wasn't just going to throw it in the trash. Snowballs are meant to explode in people's faces. It is their  _destiny_."

Ace rolled his eyes but internally felt a surge of amusement at his brother's overdramatic antics. He looked at his personal notebook and nibbled at his lip, picking up his pen and beginning to write. Jack tried to look over his shoulder but the Summer Spirit put the page to his chest, giving the ice-user a glare. He flipped to an empty page.

" _I'm writing down what I need to. I'd rather you all see it at once."_

Jack looked torn between pouting immaturely and frowning in concern. He slouched in his chair with a low huff. "Fine. Should I be calling Sabo and Luffy in here?"

Ace shook his head, writing on the same page. _"This is a Spirit thing. Knowing will only confuse them." Or make them hesitate at the wrong time…_

"…If you're sure." Jack said after a time.

Ace nodded firmly and flipped back to his older page, finishing what he wanted to say ahead of time. He marked the page using the pen and closed the notebook, glancing sidelong at Jack. The Winter Spirit gave him an innocent look and avoided his knowing stare, whistling lowly. The Summer Spirit returned his gaze to the notebook and took a shuddering breath.

_I have to tell them. They need to know._ His stomach gave a lurch.  _What if they don't believe me? Maybe I should show Jack before—_

The Guardians arrived before he could seriously consider it. It was almost funny to see the mighty Spirits chosen by Tsar Lunar creep into the room so cautiously. Their expressions ranged from bored and impatient to nervous, and although Ace knew it was because of him, seeing they were a little on edge as well helped calm him down.

"Hey guys." Jack greeted his friends.

Ace gave a smile that felt pretty natural and waved. North relaxed first, striding into the room with a beaming grin.

"Hello! I am happy to see you up, Ace. Are you feeling rested?"

The Summer Spirit did his best to ignore the tingle of nerves he could still feel in his fingertips and raised his hand, giving a 'kind of' motion.

"Good, good." North sat in a chair, expression open and friendly. "I am glad you're feeling a little better."

He sounded so sincere that Ace felt his apprehension dwindling. The fire-user decided to focus on the Cossack and Jack during the conversation, sensing that Tooth would fret and Bunny's expressions might hint that he was displeased with the news Ace wished to share.

_Of course they won't be happy_ , Ace stressed.  _But I need to tell them._

"The doctor said you wanted to speak with us." the Guardian of Memories prodded.

Ace nodded again, took a breath, and opened his notebook, handing it to Jack. The fire-user discarded his former plan and kept his eyes on the Winter Spirit alone, clasping his hands together. The Guardian of Fun shot him a searching look, cleared his throat, and began to read Ace's words.

"' _I don't know what Jack told you, but as you can see, the black sand on my skin is gone. When I was asleep, I used my center to free myself of the sand. In order to do that, I had to face my fears and either understand they were illogical or overcome them.'_ " Jack's eyes widened slightly but he continued speaking. " _'One of my fears was Pitch himself.'_ "

Tooth gasped but Ace did not look at her. A low creaking sound made him glance up, however, and he saw North forcibly peeling his fingers off the arm of his chair so he did not break it.

Jack kept reading. " _'When I faced Pitch in my nightmares, it was actually him. He would enter my dreams to torment me.'_ " The Winter Spirit's voice shook but he did not stop. " _'But that's not what this is about. What matters is what happened in my last nightmare with him. As I overcame my fear of him, I talked to him, and found out…'_ "

Jack went silent, open shock on his face. Bunny went to grab the notebook from him and read it himself but the Guardian of Fun leaned away, keeping it out of the Pooka's reach. The Winter Spirit looked at Ace, eyes searching , and the fire-user met his gaze, trying to show the truthfulness of his next statement.

Jack swallowed. "He says he found out  _'…Kozmotis is awake in Pitch.'_ "

Silence. Absolute silence. There was not even the sound of beeping machines to break the heavy quiet that overcame the room.

Despite himself, Ace's eyes went from Guardian to Guardian, taking in their expressions. Jack still looked stunned. Tooth was round-eyed. North was slightly pale. Bunny's eyes were dark. Before any of them could share their thoughts— and maybe accusations— Jack shook himself and kept reading.

"' _I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. I saw Pitch_   _talk to Kozmotis, or more accurately tell him to shut up. I had brought up all the times Pitch refrained from killing me and doing everything he could to hurt me and my loved ones,_ _and Pitch almost got defensive. He kept claiming that he did it to mess with me so he could betray me once I 'trusted' him, but at times it felt like he was trying to convince himself more than me. Eventually, I started speaking to Kozmotis, and empathizing with him, and eventually Pitch_ _ **responded**_ _to_ _ **Kozmotis'**_ _name.'_ " Jack's voice lowered to a whisper. " _'I know this doesn't change anything Pitch has done, but if Kozmotis is awake in there, maybe he can be reasoned with.'_ "

"' _I'm not saying we should walk up to Pitch and give him a hug or anything like that, but the dagger might not be the only way to beat him anymore.'_ " A flash of guilt crossed Jack's features before it vanished. " _'I just think that we might be able to help Kozmotis. Helping Kozmotis might stop or destroy Pitch permanently. Surely we should take that chance?'_ "

Jack went silent once more. Ace maintained his focus on the notebook anyway, the butterflies returning to his stomach. None of the other Guardians had said anything yet. They had not confirmed or denied his claims. What did they think? As the silence lingered, the fire-user began to feel real panic grip his throat. If they thought he was telling the truth, they would have spoken by now, right? That meant they didn't—

"No."

Ace shut his eyes, resisting the instinct to recoil at the monotone delivery from Bunny. The fire-user lifted his head and met the Pooka's fiery emerald eyes, struggling not to quail beneath the mixture of anger, disgust, and—worst of all—  _pity_  in his gaze. It was obvious what Bunny thought of Ace and his claim, but unluckily, he decided he needed to elaborate.

The Guardian of Hope looked directly at Ace, paws clenched and ears rigid atop his head. "No. I'm sorry, but you're  _wrong_. It's impossible. Pitch is just  _manipulating_  you." The Pooka's tone grew harsh, and Ace felt more of his confidence crumble into dust. "The Fearlings killed Kozmotis. His soul was devoured. He's  _gone_ , Firecracker. Others thought what you did but they were always proven wrong. There's no way that Kozmotis is alive in Pitch. It's not poss—"

"I believe you."

Four pairs of eyes focused on Tooth. The Guardian of Memories ignored all but one, pink eyes meeting Ace's flame-colored irises. She looked shaken, but her posture was firm and unrelenting.

"I believe you, Ace." She repeated. "When I was hit by the black sand, I did not go into my own nightmares. I went into a memory.  _Kozmotis'_  last memory. I saw what happened before he got turned into Pitch."

Bunny's ears twitched, betraying his unhappiness. "More like you saw Pitch's first memory."

Tooth shook her head in disagreement. "That's not it. I saw what happened up to Kozmotis releasing the Fearlings, and pieces of what he went through as he was transformed. He… He fought so hard against the fear…" Her glassy eyes closed for a second before she opened them, her pink irises shining with determination. "Before, I thought it was just a coincidence, but now that we know what your center is and what it can do, I think I have an explanation as to what happened. I think you've been unintentionally 'freeing' Kozmotis all this time, Ace."

The Summer Spirit could only stare at her in confusion.

"I think I understand." Jack said, speaking for the first time. His voice was soft, and he paused to take a few deep breaths, but when he looked at Ace, his features were calm, not angry or distraught like the fire-user feared. "I think that Ace's presence made Kozmotis stir, but it was only when he used the white flames on Pitch that Koz 'woke up'. If that's true, you're completely right, kiddo. We might not have to use the dagger to seal Pitch."

Ace blinked at the Winter Spirit, shocked. As his mind scrambled for some type of response, he acknowledged that he had never actually thought they would  _believe him_. He was damaged, a stranger, and had an unreliable mental state… and yet they listened and thought he was telling the truth, even with the little evidence he had. The fire-user tried to smile, but instead his lip trembled and his sight grew misty. He felt Jack ruffle his hair.

"Don't get me wrong." The Guardian of Fun said, voice dark and startling in contrast to his comforting movements. "I'm not forgiving Pitch. I'll  _never_  forgive him. But if we can bring Kozmotis back and stop Pitch, I'm willing to try it."

Bunny made a low sound, like he was struggling not to protest. Eventually he huffed, looking at North. "I never thought I'd see the day when you shut your gob. What do you think?"

The Cossack took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I think this is a great opportunity… and a huge gamble. I admit that my heart feels lighter to possibly have another way to defeat Pitch, but I am not comfortable with the way in which he would have to be defeated."

Ace shrank internally, wondering if North did not believe he was capable of stopping Pitch, or thought the Summer Spirit would freeze at the wrong moment and ruin their chances. But the Cossack's blue eyes were shining with worry, and Ace slowly understood that North was worried about him having to go near Pitch in order to hit the Nightmare King with his white flames. His heart warmed at North's concern for his wellbeing, and he gave the Guardian of Wonder a small smile.

"So what's the plan, then?" Bunny asked briskly. "We're heading to Pitch's island right now. What are we doing once we get there?"

"We do what we already were going to." Jack said clearly. "We fight. But now we just have to get Ace close enough to blast Pitch." The Winter Spirit scowled, eyes icy. "As much as I don't like the idea of you being five million miles near that bastard, I prefer this plan over someone using the dagger."

"I do as well, but we cannot just rely on Ace's flames working." North cut in. The Cossack met Ace's gaze, blue eyes hard but sad. "We could be wrong about this, and the white fire may just agitate Pitch, or do nothing at all this time. We cannot risk letting the Nightmare King go free. He is too dangerous. If we have the chance to stop Pitch— with the flames or otherwise— we must take it." His eyes flicked to the dagger at Tooth's hip. "No matter the cost."


	41. Face the Music

_Don't move_ , was Ace's first thought upon waking.

He kept his breathing even and soft, every muscle lax as if he were still asleep. To his relief, there was no beeping heart monitor to give him away this time, something he was doubly grateful for due to his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. Ace managed to stay outwardly calm, taking in his surroundings as he mentally prepared for what would come next.

_I'm in the infirmary. Someone is sitting beside me. Their breathing sounds too deep to be Bay. One of the Commanders? I need to be careful. If I can just buy myself a couple more seconds—_

_The sand is gone._

Memory clicked and Ace's initial fear eased. He opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and turned his head, relaxing further when he saw his companion. Whitebeard sat in a large chair that had been pulled beside the fire-user's bed, reading a book. When he saw Ace was conscious, he marked the page and set the novel down.

"Good afternoon, my son." Oyaji greeted him. "You were asleep for another day. It's past lunchtime."

Ace sat up and ran his hand through his hair, giving a small wave of greeting. He accepted the Yonko's report on how much time had passed since he last fell asleep easily, but not without a small amount of frustration and embarrassment. He hated worrying about falling asleep, and forgetting that he would always wake in reality because the poison haunting his mind had been erased. He hated that he would only intend to rest for a couple hours and end up slumbering for days at a time. It was only the third time he had awoken but he was already despising his apparent inability to recover quickly enough.

The Summer Spirit took in his surroundings more carefully and noted the conspicuous absence of a certain Winter Spirit.

"Jack is with your other brothers." Whitebeard said before he could ask. "I believe that your grandfather is going to train them, and Jack wished to be there to rescue them when 'the idiot Marine threw my idiot brothers into the sea'."

Oyaji's eyes twinkled, and Ace felt a smile tug at his lips. A distant thud shook the ship and his smile became a toothy grin. Whitebeard noticed and gave his strange laugh.

"It sounds like they've started. Would you like to go watch?"

Ace nodded eagerly. He checked himself for wires and, seeing none, put his hat over his neck and turned so his feet hung over the side of the bed. He planted his hands on the mattress beside him and gasped, cringing as pain lanced through his arms. The fire-user stared at the prominent white wrappings around his wrists, stomach twisting. A large hand landed on his head and he looked up, attention diverted as Whitebeard ruffled his hair.

Ace's scowl faded when he saw something that looked very close to sadness flash through Oyaji's expression. It did not take a genius to guess what the Yonko was thinking about that hurt him so. The Summer Spirit was instantly caught by his lingering remorse. He had been so worried about what Jack, Luffy, and Sabo would think of him that he did not have time to consider what others felt about his actions. He reached over and retrieved his notebook.

" _I'm sorry."_

Ace did not look at Whitebeard as he showed him his apology. Oyaji's large hand moved from atop his head to his chin. Shockingly, the fire-user did not tense when the Yonko nearly touched his throat. He placidly let Whitebeard guide his face up, trembling with effort as he tried to hide the guilt that must be swimming in his flame-colored eyes.

"I know you are, my son." Whitebeard said softly. "You truly regret your actions. That is why I trust you to never do that again."

Ace backed out of Oyaji's grasp, brow furrowed. He studied the Yonko's face carefully for any signs of deceit or coddling, and had to swiftly turn his gaze to the floor when he saw the blatant honesty in his father's expression. He really did trust Ace. More importantly, he believed his son was strong enough to never harm himself again. That was more faith than the Summer Spirit had in himself, and for a time he was unsure of how to respond to it.

Ace fiddled with the string of his hat for a moment and got off the bed. He darted forward and wrapped his arms around Whitebeard's leg, hugging him briefly. He heard the Yonko release a sharp breath. Oyaji then patted his hair once before plopping his hat on his head. The fire-user adjusted the orange accessory so it was no longer crooked and mock-scowled up at his father.

Whitebeard chuckled. "I guess you're ready, then? Now, let's go before Bay—"

"'Before Bay'  _what_?"

Ace had to hold back a giggle when Whitebeard froze like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. The Yonko turned to look at the irate doctor standing in the doorway. She stepped inside the room. Bay had her arms crossed and her foot tapped menacingly as she waited for a response. Receiving none, she pinned Whitebeard with a menacing glower.

The Yonko put his hands up and smiled disarmingly. "I was just about to bring Ace up to the deck for some sunlight."

Bay's eyes narrowed. Noticing her attention was solely on Whitebeard, Ace began inching towards the door. He could still hear— and feel— Garp throwing his siblings around and wanted to make sure they were relatively okay. And maybe laugh at their misfortune. The Summer Spirit had to take a moment to marvel at the fact that he could feel such a way again without being weighed down by illogical guilt.

"You mean where some idiots I'll likely have to patch up are fighting, Oyaji?" Bay asked coolly.

"The deck is big and no harm will come to him." Whitebeard said, tone shifting from light to firm. Yellow eyes flicked to Ace before returning to the doctor. "Besides, now that he has the idea in his head, we both know he'll attempt to sneak out on his own."

Both pirates looked at the Summer Spirit, who froze by the exit. He nonchalantly stepped out the door, then dodged backwards as the doctor lunged for him. Even as adrenaline pumped through his veins at the supposed 'attack', Ace stayed lucid, seeing Bay's lunge for the benign— if annoyed— attempt to stop him that it was. The doctor glared at the fire-user, who gave her a hopeful look.

Bay scoffed. "Fine. Go. But you  _will_  come back when you feel tired, understood?"

Ace nodded obediently.

Bay gave Oyaji a warning look. "No sake. For you or him."

"I would never." Whitebeard said gravely.

Ace did not know if he was being honest or not. For the fire-user, probably. For the Yonko himself… No.

Bay looked back at her patient. "And no straining yourself or fighting." The doctor added. "I will know if anyone tries to get you to spar with them…" Her eyes glinted demonically and her hand twitched towards her sword.

Ace backed up a step, still nodding.

Bay relaxed and turned to his chart, picking it and shooing him with her free hand. "Go before I change my mind. Shoo."

Ace walked out of the infirmary as quickly as he dared. Whitebeard walked beside him, and even though he could see the Yonko was moving slowly, the fire-user had difficulty keeping up. His legs already wanted to cramp, his muscles' whines or protest quickly becoming bolts of slight pain, but the Summer Spirit ignored his body's whimpers, pushing onward.

He did do some stretches as he went though, having no desire to collapse in the hallway and have Bay blow a gasket. Logically, Ace understood that he really should not be pushing his body after what happened, but he was  _not_  pushing it. Trying to fight or do somersaults would be pushing it. He was just trying to walk.

By the time Ace reached the deck, his right leg wanted to cramp. He could feel Whitebeard hovering, ready to help if he asked for it, but stubbornness, pride, or maybe he renewed will to be independent prevented him from taking the unspoken offer.

_I know my limits. I can do this on my own, at least._

Ace stepped out from below deck and just like that, the stares were back. A majority of the pirates milling about the ship performing their duties— and ignoring the two youngsters getting thrown about like beach balls by their enthusiastic grandfather— stopped what they were doing, eyes on the Summer Spirit.

The focus of their attention kept his own eyes forward, facial muscles twitching as he resisted the instinct to let his expression fall into an apathetic mask. His latest stunt had done nothing to reduce peoples' reasons for looking at him like an outcast to be wary of, and he acknowledged that it was one hundred percent his fault for that. As far as a majority of them were concerned, this was the second time the Spirit had tried to kill himself. Ace tried to think of a way to dissuade their false notions about him before realizing that he did not want to put for the effort to change what they thought. That realization was both heartening and worrying, but the fire-user was tired of caring about people that would easily believe the worst about him.

With that in mind, the Summer Spirit was able to disregard the judging eyes. He spotted Jack, Koala, and Law by the mast and waved goodbye to Oyaji before making his way over to them. Ace barely blinked when Luffy went flying in his peripheral vision. The fire-user turned his head in his soaring brother's direction as he sat between the Winter Spirit and surgeon, wincing a little as the rubber pirate bounced off the deck and landed in a heap.

"Hi, Ace." Jack greeted in a chipper voice. "Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. Are you here to see the show?"

Ace watched Sabo get flung into Luffy and nodded, wincing as Garp pursued his grandsons with a crazed grin. The fire-user diverted his attention from his younger brothers getting up and meeting the Marine head on— a rather foolish endeavor— to give Koala a smile— which she returned— and shoot Law a questioning look.

"Baby Tooth-ya wanted to see the two idiots be used as punching bags." The surgeon answered his unspoken question. "The Moby and Sunny are close enough that I was able to get us here using my Room."

Baby Tooth gave a happy giggle and waved from atop the surgeon's hat. Ace waved back. The fire-user peered around, spotting the Thousand Sunny sailing nearby the Moby Dick, and felt a twinge of unease.

_That's right. We're heading to Pitch._

The hair on his nape prickled. Ace was quickly distracted from his thoughts when Jack reached over him to give Law a nudge.

"That's not the only reason." The Heart Pirate glared at him warningly but the Guardian of Fun only grinned. "Admit it, you're eager to see this too."

Law huffed, head tipping down, and only Ace saw the sadistic smirk that curled his lips. "Perhaps. Seeing Straw Hat-ya getting his ass kicked is quite cathartic."

Baby Tooth smacked his head, giving an indignant squeak about his language.

The surgeon rolled his grey eyes. "You've heard worse and you know it."

The Mini Fairy blew a raspberry at him.

Two girlish shrieks made Ace turn his head and he held back a snigger as Sabo and Luffy's team attack failed miserably. Garp bopped both his grandsons on the head, sending them onto their rumps nursing goose eggs.

Jack cackled. "Our strongest fighters, everybody!"

"I don't know whether I should be embarrassed or horrified." Koala piped up in a resigned voice. "I have to wonder how you and Dragon-san survived."

"Garp's a monster. And crazy." Jack agreed. His smile grew soft as Luffy and Sabo successfully blocked one of the Marine's strikes. "But he really does care about you three."

Ace looked at his brother but quickly turned back to the fight, ironically relaxing as Sabo and Luffy were sent crashing into the deck. One foolishly brave Whitebeard Pirate shouted at Garp for damaging the wood, only to go scurrying when the Marine looked at him with his wild grin in place.

"I'm surprised you aren't trying to join them." Law commented, and it took Ace a moment to realize the surgeon was talking to him.

The fire-user shrugged and wrote.  _"No fighting. Doctor's orders. Besides, why would I want to face that?"_

Ace pointed at Garp, who punched Sabo in the stomach and sent him sprawling onto his back with a startled— and slightly pained— look on his face. Law hummed vaguely in agreement, maintaining his rather smug smirk. The fire-user felt eyes on him and shifted uncomfortably. He had never really trained in Observation Haki, but he swore he could feel a difference in the stares. One of them held weight and anger, like the person was trying to glare daggers at him.

_Don't look. Don't look. Don't—_

Ace looked. The first thing he noticed was pink. The second was a familiar spider tattoo. The third was the cold eyes he felt on him. Squard did not avert his glare when the Summer Spirit looked at him. Instead, the lines of the Captain's face grew harsher. Ace's heart sank.

_We used to be friends_ , he remembered vaguely.  _Before Marineford and everything. I think he forgave me for being Roger's son… but it looks like he hates me for something else now._  Ace felt a small bubble of guilt for his assumption.  _That's a harsh thing to presume. That might not be it. Maybe he's like Haruta and doesn't know what to say._

The Summer Spirit stood up and lurched forward, out of reach of the hand he sensed grabbing for him. Drawing his arms closer to his body, Ace turned in time to see Jack cover up his guilt for startling the fire-user, instead maintaining a rather solemn visage.

"I don't think that's a good idea, kiddo." The Winter Spirit said, eyes flicking past Ace. "I don't think Pinky is going to be happy to see you."

Feeling the eyes that now were attempting to glare holes into his back, the fire-user resisted the urge to look over his shoulder at the pirate.  _"I know. I just want to see why he's upset."_

Jack's mood shifted to discomfort and his staff was overcome by frost. "Normally I'd be all for confronting him, but he looks ready to punch the first person who talks to him. Namely you."

" _I'm sure he's not that mad."_  Ace wrote optimistically.  _"Besides, I'd rather see what's wrong now instead of finding out when its less_ _peace_ _—"_  He crossed out the last word.  _"— convenient."_

The Winter Spirit glanced behind Ace again, mouth settling into a scowl. "…Okay. Go ahead, I guess. Just promise—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "—If he tries to slug you, hit him right in the nose, got it?"

Ace might have rolled his eyes or sent his brother a dry look if not for the seriousness in his tone. It was disconcerting to acknowledge the reason for Jack's concern, but he had nothing to worry about. The Summer Spirit had enough of people taking out their anger on him in nightmares. He was not about to sit there and take it in the real world.

Ace walked towards Squard, casually avoiding Garp, Luffy, and Sabo's training session in the middle of the deck. The stares and glares he could feel on his back grew more prominent, but none matched the one of the Captain in front of him. Squard's scowl deepened but he did not retreat as Ace settled against the railing next to him. The fire-user gave a wave that the man did not return.

_Great. This looks promising_ , he thought sarcastically.

Ace glanced at his notebook, considering how to start the conversation. He did not have the patience for niceties at the moment, but beginning with 'What's your problem with me?' seemed to be a little antagonistic. Even worse, Squard did not seem to be willing to talk to him, instead glaring straight ahead and likely pretending Ace did not exist. The Summer Spirit was just beginning to consider that maybe the Captain did not know he was there when the man finally broke his silence.

"So. You're alive." Squard said tonelessly. "You survived Marineford."

Ace nodded, face slipping into a stony expression. He did not mean to let it happen, but the alternative was a forced smile and he could not make himself do it.

Squard crossed his arms, eyes following the hectic fight before him. "That's funny. Really funny. We saw you die and you lived anyway. 'Cause now you're one of those Spirit-things."

The fire-user felt his stomach twist at his tone as he said 'Spirits'. His voice was low, cold, and if he did not know better he would think it was bitter. He nodded in confirmation, unable to do anything else because if Squard truly was upset with him because he was 'not human' anymore…

"My crew is dead again." Squard said flatly. "Pitch killed them all right in front of me."

Ace flinched and reached up, clasping his elbows and digging his nails into his skin.  _I'm sorry_ , was his first thought, but it stayed trapped inside his mind instead of being shared. Partially because he could not write with shaking hands, partially due to him being unsure of what he was even apologizing for.

"They were so scared." The Captain continued, voice distant. "Some of death, others of different things. My cook was always terrified of spiders. He clawed his own throat out, screaming about how they were all over him and begging me to help him get them off."

_Hallucinations_ , Ace's mind brutally supplied as icy water pooled in his gut. He lowered his head, intent on hiding his face from view.

"Most of them died like that. Screaming. They were the lucky ones. They didn't get turned into monsters." Squard's hand landed on Ace's shoulder and he looked up, muscles quivering as he resisted the instinct to pull away. The Captain's eyes were filled with unshed tears. "I demanded to know why  _he_  killed them, you know. I asked. It was because of you. He killed them because we were connected to  _you_."

Surprisingly, the hand on Ace's arm did not clench. Half the fire-user's mind began planning counterattacks and ways out of danger while the other half waited for the moment when the Captain decided to hurt him like so many had before. Somehow, the latter was not accompanied by fear, but a readiness to retaliate— to fight.

"They barely knew you. They had nothing to do with you 'Spirits' and your bloody war. And yet they were murdered.  _Why?_ " Squard's voice became a growl. "Why did  _you_  get to come back and not  _them_? What makes you so  _special_?"

_Because Jack begged Manny to help me_ , Ace thought.

In the end, it all came down to chance. Ace was resurrected because of his connection to Jack, and it really only was through luck that he had ever met the Guardian of Fun at all. As much as Manny was capable of love and care for humans, extending that care to this world was illogical. Besides, it was not like the Moon could make every human that died into a Spirit. If it were that simple, every worthy person would be given a second chance at life. There was no way in hell he was sharing those reasons, however, no matter how truthful they might be.

Ace could only shrug helplessly. The movement was what caused Squard's fingers to clench at last, pressing into his skin. The fire-user's muscles locked and he jerked out of the Captain's hold, making him stumble forward a step. Squard righted himself and glowered, radiating hostility. However, beneath the rage burning in his eyes, Ace could see remnants of a broken man, one who had lost too much and could only lash out in an attempt to expel the anger and sorrow slowly killing him inside.

Maybe his own suffering made him more capable of compassion, or maybe that same suffering simply forced him into being too forgiving of a person, but Ace's simmering wariness and mistrust dwindled away. Squard was helpless against Pitch. He could do nothing to harm him and avenge his fallen crew. So instead he focused his anger elsewhere, on someone he could see and blame for his loss. At this point, he might just be an easy target for Squard's anger. Ace understood that but he could not bring himself to resent the man for it.

However, he did not feel the unstoppable need to change the Captain's mind either. A part of the Summer Spirit wanted to glare right back at Squard and tell him to stop projecting his anger onto him, but honestly, it was not his job to set the Captain straight. Perhaps his short time as a Spirit had left him jaded, but the desire to endure through anger and abuse in order to reform the bond lost before Marineford was simply absent.

In other words, Ace understood why Squard felt like he did, did not care about what the man thought, and was not interested in making him see differently. That realization scared the Summer Spirit more than he liked to admit. He knew a lot of things were wrong with him, but surely he was truly damaged if he had no desire to try to become friends with someone again? He had to be a terrible person to already be cutting his losses and giving up, right?

_Maybe my nightmares made me realize I can't please everyone, maybe I just don't feel like dealing with his anger… or maybe I'm just pathetic. No. That's not it. I just… don't need his friendship. That's a terrible thing to think, but I don't. The people I care about most still care about me back, and I'm going to leave this world soon anyway so what's the point?_  Ace kept his expression blank, knowing that the grim smile that wanted to come would only be misunderstood by Squard.  _Heh. I've only been a Spirit for a couple years and I'm already leaving old bonds behind._

Squard was still glaring at him, expecting a response. Ace felt the urge to be blunt and ask if the man hated him. He refrained, not for his own well-being this time, but because the information seemed unnecessary. The Captain was directing his anger at Ace because he could not attack the real source of his sorrow. He would continue to do so until he realized the error of his ways, but Ace was unwilling to put up with that abuse until the man understood his mistake. Instead the fire-user wrote something else.

" _I'm sorry for your loss and that you feel that way. I hope we can be friends again someday."_

He felt strange as he wrote the last sentence because he did not know if he truly meant it or not. If Squard forgave him, that would be wonderful and he would be willing to be friends again, but if the Captain refused to let his irrational anger go… Ace would not be crushed. The Summer Spirit could not decide if that apathy was a good thing or not.

Once Squard saw the message, Ace retrieved his notebook and walked away. He did not give in and show remorse for something out of his control, nor did he confront the person wrongly pinning him as a guilty party. The Captain should figure out his anger was unwarranted on his own, and if he did not, he was not worth Ace's time.

A familiar wet nose nudged Ace's leg and the fire-user looked down, smiling slightly. Stefan looked back at him, pure joy in his eyes, and tipped his head hopefully. The Summer Spirit crouched down and obligingly scratched Stefan behind the ears. The dog's tail wagged enthusiastically and he licked the fire-user's face.

Ace rose again and went back to Jack, Koala, and Law, returning to his seat between the surgeon and Winter Spirit. Stefan settled his head in his lap, tail wagging and hitting the Heart Pirate. Law did not seem to mind, absently reaching out and rubbing the dog's head. Stefan practically glowed at the attention.

"You okay?" Jack asked quietly.

Ace looked him in the eye and nodded, and the tension in the Winter Spirit's shoulders ceased. He patted the fire-user's arm before turning back to the training session, wincing as Luffy slammed into the wall.

"That's going to leave a mark." He muttered.

"On the wall or Luffy?" Koala asked curiously.

Jack thought about it as the rubber pirate stumbled back onto his feet. "Both."

Baby Tooth flitted over to Ace, poking his cheek to ensure she had his attention. He offered a hand and she gracefully landed on it, giving a thankful chirp. She asked if he was still willing to translate for her like he promised, eyes wide and hopeful. The fire-user struggled to recall when he had agreed to such a thing but eventually located the memory. However, the thought and her expression also made him remember something else, and he felt the lurking claws of guilt. Ace looked at Luffy, watching as the Straw Hat Captain attacked Garp with a flaming fist.

_I never apologized for breaking my promise not to die, did I?_  he thought morosely. The fire-user closed his eyes briefly, and exhaled.  _It doesn't matter. I don't have to because Luffy doesn't care about that. He'd just be glad I'm back._

Warmth bloomed in his chest and he returned his attention to Baby Tooth, who was waiting patiently for his response. Hoping he had not zoned out for too long, the Summer Spirit nodded. The Mini Fairy perked up happily. She flew up to his ear and quietly told him that she wanted to compliment Koala's teeth. The Revolutionary's teeth were so white and pretty, you see, and Baby Tooth wanted to tell her that, but was worried that it would be weird. People did not seem to appreciate being told they had nice molars, even less so when the Mini Fairy climbed into their mouths to inspect them so could Ace help?

The Summer Spirit kept his expression serious and solemn, internally caught between surprise and a bubbling urge to laugh. Ace did not think Baby Tooth would be so shy about talking to Koala— though he supposed to two were practically strangers— and certainly did not expect her to ask  _him_  about how to talk to people. Him, the mute guy who had gained the opinion that basic conversational skills were overrated and a waste of time. It was actually pretty funny. Baby Tooth looked so serious, however, so he struggled not to show his amusement. If this was an important matter to her, he would treat it as such as well. Ace glanced over at Jack, who shrugged unhelpfully. The fire-user shot him a glare and the Winter Spirit smiled cheekily.

_Thanks for the assistance, bro._

Baby Tooth was still looking at Ace in that hopeful way that reminded him of a young Luffy. His lips curled up and he petted her head gently before turning to his notebook and writing. He showed it to the Mini Fairy, who nodded enthusiastically and gave a chirp of approval. Pleased, Ace leaned over Jack— 'accidentally' elbowing him in the ribs and making him yelp— to show Koala the message.

" _Baby Tooth wanted me to tell you she thinks your smile is pretty."_

Koala blinked. Then her blue eyes softened and she gave a tiny grin. "Thank you, Baby Tooth. I think your feathers are lovely."

Baby Tooth gave a bashful squeak and hid in Ace's hair. The fire-user shrugged at Koala, who chuckled and offered her hand. The Mini Fairy hesitated and flew to the Revolutionary, landing in her palm. Koala gently cupped her with both hands, settling back. Ace hid a smile as the Mini Fairy got over her shyness and chattered happily at the Revolutionary, who nodded solemnly despite not understanding a single word of what she said. He made to stand and move over so he could continue to translate, but the world decided to tilt.

Jack steadied Ace before he could tip over, instantly concerned. "Are you okay? Do you need to go back to the infirmary?" The fire-user shot his brother a disgusted look and the Winter Spirit raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I just don't want Bay to murder me if you pass out here. Maybe you should rest."

Ace briefly rubbed at his eyes and then quirked an eyebrow at his brother.  _"Mister Funtimes wants me to go rest? Who are you and what have you done with Jack?"_

The Guardian of Fun stuck his tongue out at him. "Why are you so surprised? I'm your big brother, and big brothers worry. I just don't want you to push yourself. Who knows what could happ—"

Ace leapt to his feet. Before his mind could question his body's actions, his instincts screamed. Dark. There was darkness. It was right there. He had to move and get between Jack, Luffy, and Sabo and the darkness— Pitch It was Pitch. Ace could sense him he was there he had to  _protect them_. Flames sputtered to life at his fingertips but they were small and weak, barely enough to light a candle. It did not matter. He had to be strong and fight and block Pitch. He had to—

Cold arms— familiar, nice cold, not evil Pitch-cold— wrapped around him and low murmurs failed to register in his roaring ears. The voice was Jack's. Ace knew it was the Winter Spirit but why was he stopping him? He could not attack if Jack was holding onto—

Ace's vision cleared and he saw his intended targets. Marco and Haruta were frozen before him. The short Commander's face was pale but his eyes were narrowed, his posture tense like he was facing an enemy. Marco was more composed but his eyes were dark with wariness, his hands raised like he was showing a dangerous criminal he was unarmed. Surprisingly— or maybe unsurprisingly— Stefan stood between Ace and the two Commanders, hackles raised.

Alarm and protectiveness were replaced by guilt, and the pitiful flames Ace summoned extinguished. His energy vanished with them. Detaching Jack from him with a shrug, the fire-user fell heavily to the deck, limbs trembling from the strain. The Winter Spirit knelt in front of him, putting out a hand to stop Stefan from shoving his nose in Ace's face.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, feeling Ace's forehead. He frowned. "Law."

The surgeon glanced sidelong at him before doing the same, ignoring Baby Tooth as she returned to his white hat. Law remained unruffled. "His temperature feels normal. Your skin is just cold."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Ace shoved Law's hand away and closed his eyes. He felt Stefan settle in front of him, still growling warningly, and petted the dog in an attempt to calm him down. His mind whirled, plagued by guilt and he was certain only his exhaustion— and dismay— was keeping his cheeks from turning red. He overreacted  _again_.

_I almost attacked my family again_ , he thought, and any lingering embarrassment was ruthlessly smothered.  _I thought for certain I sensed Pitch._ Ace lowered his hat over his eyes and peered subtly at Marco, insides twisting into a pretzel.  _I must have sensed the sand in Marco and freaked. Typical._

His gaze flicked to Haruta, who was still pale and scowling. Ace recalled the last time he had lost control of his powers near the Commander and cringed internally even as he searched the other for burns. Thankfully there were none. Neither man was even singed.

_I'm sure a match makes more fire than I did. Still, I should be grateful. If I wasn't so weak at the moment…_

Ace picked up his notebook before he could dwell on how close he had come to burning two of his friends to a crisp.  _"Sorry about that. I'm still a little jumpy."_

"Just be more careful." Marco chided. "We don't want a repeat of the boot incident."

Haruta's expression clouded further. "I need to talk to Thatch." He said abruptly, and left without another word.

Ace winced.  _Don't take it personally. He's probably just in one of his moods again. It's not like I did something…_  He caught sight of the white bandages around his wrists.  _…Oh._ _ **Oh.**_ _Didn't I swear I'd never harm myself? Oh no. No wonder he's pissed…_  The fire-user rubbed at his eyes, wishing the action would stop them from drooping.  _I can't deal with this right now. I should go back so Bay doesn't go on a rampage… but the infirmary is so far away…_

His limbs felt like lead again. Shaking lead, but still tons of pounds he couldn't move. Ace did not want to ask to be carried either. That would only cause people to overreact and flail about like he was dying. Though trying to walk on his own and collapsing in the hall would cause an uproar too…

_I'll just rest my head for a minute. Just to get my strength back._

Ace leaned over and relaxed against the shoulder beside him. He was instantly asleep.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Law did not dare to move. Every muscle was tense, his back stiff and rigid, and each breath was carefully managed so his torso would not shift too much. On his shoulder, Ace gave a small sigh, blissfully unaware of who he was leaning on. And he had to be unaware, because there was no way the twitchy, paranoid Spirit would fall asleep on the surgeon of all people.

Law was a pirate. He was a Captain. He was the feared Surgeon of Death. He was not a  _pillow_. The Heart Pirate had half a mind to shove the fire-user off, but his current company would object to his treatment of the Summer Spirit and he could already feel the headache he would get from their complaints. Not to mention that the Whitebeard doctor was a force he did not want to deal with. So the surgeon begrudgingly let Ace stay where he was. Even if it meant facing the indignity of his companions' reactions.

There was a loud crunch as Luffy was thrown into the deck by Garp again. Ace shifted on Law's shoulder and the surgeon went stock still. The fire-user did not wake, instead snuggling his shirt and reaching up to wrap his arms around Law. Jack gave a stifled snort, hands clamped over his mouth in an attempt to silence his laughter. Baby Tooth had no such qualms, emitting a high-pitched giggle from atop Law's head while Marco cleared his throat suspiciously.

At least Koala was staying completely stoic, although she was looking a little constipated. Focusing his anger on one person, the Heart Pirate glared daggers at the Winter Spirit, unwilling to even lift his right arm and risk waking the Summer Spirit.

"I will attach your head to a barrel." Law snarled in a whisper.

Jack gave a muffled laugh that sounded like a mouse being choked. The dog was also staring at Law as if he were daring the surgeon to move and startle the fire-user. The Heart Pirate sneered back at the canine, unimpressed. Marco was looking at the surgeon as well but his rather bored, tired expression, was much more tolerable than the dog's righteous glower and Jack and Baby Tooth's immature giggles. The Phoenix eventually shook his head and looked away from Law's sour face, eyes landing on Jack.

"I came here to tell you that we'll probably arrive at the island tomorrow." He informed them.

Jack's mirth vanished and he flinched visibly, sitting up straight. "T-Tomorrow?" he stammered. "But Ace isn't ready yet! You saw what just happened. His powers are still  _way_  out of whack."

Law and Marco exchanged a nearly identical bored-but-befuddled look. Koala's eyebrows crept upward.

"Others will be fighting, Jack." she pointed out. "We do not need to solely rely on Ace."

Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Yes we do. If we don't want to use the dagger, we have to use Ace's white flames to beat Pi—"

"You're planning to use those on Pitch?" Marco interrupted sharply.

Koala, Law, and Jack looked at him and were struck speechless by the anger smoldering in his greenish eyes.

The Winter Spirit recovered quickly. "Maybe. Ace found out Kozmotis— the good guy Pitch used to be before the Fearlings got him— is in there somewhere and thinks he can get him out."

The Phoenix's visage darkened further. Law's eyes narrowed and he saw Koala tense.

Jack sighed. "Look, I get that you want vengeance. You lost a lot of people to Pitch, not to mention what he did to Ace and you. But freeing Koz would likely kill Pitch so…"

Marco grimaced before his features smoothed out. "I see. I just… don't want him to get away with it."

Jack's expression softened with compassion. "I understand." He repeated. "But trust me; no matter what happens in that battle, he won't."

The Phoenix sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. Then he jerked, rubbing at his eyes. Marco raised a hand to stop Jack before the Winter Spirit could comment. "For the thousandth time, no,  _don't_  force Ace to cure me yet. His control is a mess right now and he needs time. Besides, we don't know exactly how Ace's 'white flames' work. There could be a recharge period." His voice grew grave. "I don't want him to waste them on me and need them during the battle."

Jack's visage grew worried once more. "That's why I'm not happy that we're arriving so soon. We all know that there won't be any 'safe spots' once we get near that island, and Ace is going to have to fight regardless of what happens, but he isn't anywhere close to full strength."

Baby Tooth gave a concerned chirp, eyes round with fear.

Law petted her head gently. "Then we'll protect him." His four companions stared at the surgeon. " _What?_ "

The Winter Spirit beamed, the expression both sunny and grating. "Awwww. You're adorable!"

Jack tried to give Law a hug but the surgeon kicked him away. The Heart Pirate held his breath as Ace shifted on his shoulder, releasing it when the fire-user settled again, and glared at the Winter Spirit. Jack was either immune to his attempt to murder him with his eyes or was more ignorant than even the rubber nuisance.

"And now you're keeping me from accidentally waking him up. How sweet." He said in a voice compared to that of a mother complimenting a picture a toddler made.

"Forget the barrel. I'll attach you to Sabo-ya's pipe." Law growled. "I'm certain your thick skull will prove to be quite the dangerous weapon. I'd worry about head injuries but you already have so few brain cells as it is."

"Ouch." Jack said, not sounding hurt at all.

Law wished he had a Devil Fruit that let him blow up annoying ice-user's with his mind. He was distracted from answering as Ace slumped. The surgeon caught the fire-user's head before he could fall and adjusted him so he was back on his shoulder. Ace smiled a little and snuggled his arm, still clinging to him. The Heart Pirate raised his head and glowered at the others, daring them to say anything.

Koala cleared her throat. "I haven't heard about the plan to use Ace's gift before now. Who knows about it?"

"The Guardians. Whitebeard. Sabo and Luffy know that Ace is the best chance to stop Pitch but not about Kozmotis." Jack said, counting a finger for each group he named. He cringed. "In hindsight, we really shouldn't have talked about it here. The less people know, the less chance there is that Pitch will find out."

Law gave a low, humorless chuckle. "Do you truly think he isn't already aware we are coming?"

"I think he doesn't." Jack said honestly. "But I'm prepared for him to. Either way…" Blue eyes drifted to the sleeping fire-user. "This is going to be rough."

Marco turned to observe as Luffy got a hit in on Garp. "Do you believe you can win?"

"I hope so." The Winter Spirit murmured, lips curling up. "Heh. Who knows? Maybe hope will be enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope I was able to write this chapter the way I wanted to. I just wanted to show a comparison between some of Ace's relationships. There are those that will do their best to stay at his side despite his mistakes and flaws, catching him when he stumbles and redirecting him when he needs it, those that are upset with him because of what he did, and those that will turn against him because of things that are not even his fault…


	42. Taken

Ace snapped into wakefulness. His sense of touch registered first. He kept still, cursing his pounding heart and tried to think calmly and rationally. The fire-user was in the infirmary. He was in his bed.  _Someone was in his bed with him_ , behind him with their arms around him, keeping him trapped. Ace could feel them breathing on the back of his neck, which prickled with nerves. It did not help that he remembered the last time he had woken in such a situation.

_After dying to Marco's talons for the thousandth time, Ace regained consciousness in his bed. Echoes of pain from where he had been impaled lanced through his stomach and he instinctively tried to curl up, only to discover he could not. Arms were locked around him, cold and slightly slimy, and icy, rattling breaths tickled his nape._

_The Summer Spirit craned his neck, meeting demonic eyes, and his heart froze in his chest. The Fearling behind him grinned menacingly, its grip tightening, and before Ace could even consider struggling it pulled, dragging him off the bed. Fueled by panic, the fire-user wrenched himself from its hold before it could completely pull him to the floor, but the monster regained its hold before he could flee, yanking him beneath the bed and into the shadows._

_Sight ceased to exist and Ace floundered in the darkness, clawing at the endless void like a drowning man. The void was empty, incomprehensibly so, and for a moment the Summer Spirit's mind cracked as it failed to understand the terrible nothingness. The darkness— the Fearlings?— laughed and shrieked around him and suddenly the void was not empty at all. They did not appear before him but they crowded around him like he had been buried alive, their invisible hands grasping at his limbs and body._

_Ace tried to curl up but they held onto him, pulling at his hair and tearing into his flesh, leaving bolts of pain from cuts the fire-user was unable to see. The Fearlings dug their claws into his flesh and thick ice forced its way through the fire-user's veins. With a horrified jolt, Ace realized their darkness was inside him, ripping through his body. He could feel it trickling through his veins, wrapping around his organs, surrounding his heart. It was invasive but familiar and his body somehow did not reject it like it should when dealing with poisons. The Summer Spirit began to wonder if it had always been there._

_The Summer Spirit must have screamed because the Fearlings laughed louder, amused by his agonized cries. They continued to play with him, mocking him for his helplessness. The darkness could not turn him but he could not break free of it either. If he were stronger he could do it, but he was too frail. He was weak enough to let the darkness in, so now he had to pay the price. There was no escape._

_Ace was only released from his dark Hell when a Fearling accidentally slashed his throat._

Ace barely refrained from shuddering, memories of pain and a sickening nausea prodding at the edge of his mind. He really hoped this nightmare would not be a repeat of that experience. He was not sure he could handle being trapped in the darkness and tortured like that again.

 _Their breath isn't cold so it probably isn't a Fearling this time_ , Ace thought, struggling to keep his own air intake even so as to not alert the other to his conscious state.  _I should check to see who it is so I can plan what to… Wait. The sand is gone._

Ace's eyes snapped open. Carefully, he turned his head and instantly relaxed when he spotted familiar black hair.

 _You idiot_ , he thought affectionately.

Of course it was Luffy. The Summer Spirit felt a little embarrassed that he had panicked— and forgotten about the sand's removal—  _again_  but at least no one would know about his internal freak out. In hindsight, it was obvious that Luffy was the one who was there. His little brother always used to climb into Ace's bed when he was scared or had a nightmare.

The fire-user frowned, brow furrowing, and shifted, trying to get a better look at Luffy. His movements caused the Straw Hat Pirate to cling to him tighter, burying his head in the Summer Spirit's back. Knowing there was no escape, Ace resigned himself to his fate. Being pinned like this was still a bit disconcerting, but the fire-user would always prefer being trapped by his over-affectionate sibling to being held captive by anything.

A low chuckle that was not Luffy came from behind them and he tensed once more. The laughter cut off abruptly and Sabo moved into his line of sight, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. And I couldn't convince him to leave you be." He tipped his head in Luffy's direction. "You know how he is."

Ace nodded and gave Sabo a long-suffering look.

The Revolutionary shrugged ruefully. "No, I can't save you. He's clingier than a baby monkey."

Ace rolled his eyes, unappreciative of his brother's joke.

Sabo slowly shifted his chair so it was in front of Ace, using extra care so he did not make noise. The fire-user followed his movements, eyes narrowed slightly. The fire was back. In Ace's mind, it danced almost desperately, like it was trying to gain his attention. He denied it, focused on his littlest brother's wellbeing.

Sabo sat down. "Luffy was tired but didn't want to leave your side. He just decided that your bed had enough room."

Ace frowned, craning his neck to look at his little brother before staring intently at Sabo.

The Revolutionary sighed. "Yeah, he's scared. Not about the battle, really, but…" Upon seeing Ace's confused look he explained. "We're reaching Pitch's island tomorrow— well, today by now."

The Summer Spirit's stomach took a dive. He carefully reached forward and got his notebook.  _"We're already so close?"_

Sabo stared at the page, squinting in an attempt to see them in the darkness. He eventually huffed and lit a hand. Ace's gaze was dragged to the fire and something seemed to boil under his skin.

_That shouldn't be there._

"How did you even write this in the dark? I couldn't see a thing." The Revolutionary muttered, holding his flaming hand close to the page. He blinked. "Do Spirits have good night vision?"

Ace blinked and shrugged, stiffening as Luffy shifted behind him. The rubber pirate mumbled something about meat and drooled on his back. The fire-user gave an annoyed sigh but did not shove his brother away. Thinking back to Sabo's question, he was not sure. He could not exactly see clearly in the dark, but his vision caught more than vague shapes in the blackness. The Summer Spirit wondered if that was a Spirit thing, Nature Spirit thing, or something he had developed because of so much time— and nightmares— in darkness but dismissed his theories.

Sabo's fire continued to prod at the edge of his awareness like an annoying fly buzzing in his ear. Even when he looked away, he knew it was there, and it was irritating and wrong, and he really wanted to  _do something about the damn—_

"Yes, we're that close." Sabo said, having finally deciphered his question. "We've made a plan of attack, though the Guardians have been a little hush hush about what they're going to do with Pitch. I guess that's why they're in the sky right now."

Ace stared hard at his blond-haired brother.

"They're in North's sleigh, including Jack." Sabo elaborated. "I think they're going over the specifics of their takedown plan. There's always a chance Pitch might be listening in so it's a good idea to go to a place with no shadows for him to spy through."

Ace took a moment to study the shadows in the infirmary suspiciously before taking back his notebook.  _"But if Pitch is watching, that means he knows we're coming and any plans will probably be useless."_

Sabo held his flaming finger close to the page and Ace held his breath. He wanted to put it out or take it away. He really did. Maybe because fire had almost killed Sabo once before, or because it could very easily burn up the notebook if it got too close.

"We know." The Revolutionary responded. "We have backups, contingencies, and a couple escape routes from the Straw Hats. It's not perfect but it's the best we got. Besides…" His blue gaze darkened. "It's better to take the fight to Pitch instead of waiting for him to ambush us again."

Sitting up slightly and propping himself on his elbow— with Luffy clinging to his back all the while— Ace reached out and laid a hand on his brother's arm.

Sabo briefly placed his own hand over the fire-user's before letting it fall to his lap. "I guess I'm a little nervous. I've been in huge fights before but this one… It's personal." His eyes flicked from Ace to Luffy and his hands clenched. "I really don't like this."

The Summer Spirit winced at the strained undertone in his voice. He hesitated and flipped to a new page in his notebook.  _"I don't either. If I had my way, you and Luffy would not be part of this at all. No Pitch, no Fearlings, no battle. But at the same time, I don't think I'm scared. Because this time we're together."_

Sabo took in the words slowly, expression shifting from sorrow, to shock, to gentle warmth. He smiled softly. "Yeah. ASL and Jack… we're all together now. Pitch won't stand a chance." He gave a low chuckle. "Though I'm beginning to think we should call it 'JASL' so you don't get confused."

Ace tipped his head, perplexed.

Sabo nudged him, smile transforming into a teasing smirk. "I heard from Tooth that you want to learn 'ASL', as in 'American Sign Language'. I bet you're going to walk around Earth, hear 'ASL', and wonder why people are talking about us, right?"

Ace gave his brother a light shove, scoffing as he wrote.  _"No way._   _I'm perfectly capable of using my brain and seeing the different contexts, thank you very much."_

"Right." Sabo teased. "I suppose using your head is required if you want to learn a completely new language. Seeing as how it's you… Well, good luck with that." As he pretended not to notice Ace's mock glower, his smile dimmed and he leaned forward slightly. "I have to admit, I don't really understand why you want to learn sign language though. I mean, it's useful for now but you'll regain your voice eventually."

Ace's smile froze on his face. As his body was paralyzed, his mind raced through his memories, searching desperately for one that did not exist. He never told Luffy and Sabo the truth about his muteness. He never told them it was permanent. His forced smile twitched and failed, becoming a neutral grimace, and the Revolutionary's own amusement was snuffed out in an instant.

"What's wrong?" Sabo asked softly but urgently.

The instinct to lie bubbled up inside Ace but he squashed it. He glanced over his shoulder at the blissfully unaware Luffy and a tight feeling clogged his throat. The fire-user flipped his pen between his fingers, staring at the page and briefly shut his eyes.

_They deserve to know._

" _I want to learn sign language because I'm permanently mute. The damage to my voice box was too severe and I won't get better. My voice is gone. I'm never going to talk again."_

Ace could feel the admission ripping open old scars and struggled to hold the pieces of himself together. He hated acknowledging that he would never be the same again. He hated thinking about the fact that even though the sand was gone, it had left him irreversibly changed forever. The Summer Spirit closed his eyes as he handed the notebook to Sabo. He was not sure how he would react if he looked at his brother and saw pity in his blue eyes. He was sick of being pitied and stared at like a broken bird.

"What?" the Revolutionary whispered. "…You're mute? Forever?"

Sabo's voice was small as he spoke and Ace squeezed his eyes shut harder, determined not to see his reaction. The fire-user made his head bob in confirmation. He heard his brother exhale shakily.

"How long have you known?" Sabo asked.

Ace opened his eyes a slit and quickly took the notebook back. He saw Sabo's pale face at the edge of his vision and focused firmly on the page before him so he could not see more.

" _I found out the day you guys showed up here."_

"That long?" Sabo asked faintly. "Why didn't you tell us before?"

The Revolutionary's hand shook as he handed the notebook back.

Ace held back a cringe as he replied.  _"I didn't want to upset you."_

Even in the darkness, he could see Sabo's expression cloud. "You didn't…? Why  _wouldn't we be upset_ , Ace?!"

The Revolutionary's volume grew louder and Luffy twitched. Ace hurriedly stroked his brother's hair and the Straw Hat Pirate settled once more. The fire-user looked to his other brother and flinched as he met furious blue eyes.

"Did you really think that keeping this a secret would  _help_?" Sabo snapped, obviously struggling to keep his voice low. "That time would— would make it hurt  _less_? In what world does that make  _sense_ , Ace?"

The Logia's shoulders ignited. Ace recoiled, heartbeat speeding up. The boiling feeling simmered under his skin, growing stronger, and his expression twisted into a snarl as he yanked the notebook from Sabo's hands.

" _I wasn't ready, okay? I didn't want to admit that I was going to be mute for the rest of my damned Immortal life."_

Sabo gave a bitter laugh. "Sure. That was it. It's not like you didn't tell us because you thought you needed to 'protect' us and we're stupid children that can't handle the real world."

The flames grew and Luffy gave a small whine. Ace could feel his own body trembling as something grappled at the edge of his consciousness. He did not know what it was but he ignored it.

" _What the_ _ **hell**_ _are you going on about?"_  he asked crudely.

"Like you don't know." Sabo spat. "You don't trust us. Or maybe you're too much of a coward to admit how damn  _fucked up_  you are."

He reached out and grabbed Ace's bandaged arm, squeezing it. The fire-user felt a bolt of panic, recalling his nightmares, and wavered, mind clouding as memory and the present blurred.

"I know what you did." Sabo growled. "I know this isn't the first time you cut yourself." Ace barely had time to feel confused before his brother continued. "I thought you were better than that, Ace! What the hell were you  _thinking_?"

Ace stared at him in bewilderment. Comprehension clicked and his stomach twisted into knots. He must have overheard his 'conversation' with Haruta. The fire-user tried to wrench his arm free so he could write but Sabo kept a firm grip on the limb.

"I can't believe you would do something like this not once, but twice. We're your brothers! You're supposed to let us help you." Sabo's voice cracked.

Ace finally succeeded in freeing his arm.  _"I didn't cut myself before—"_  He began, only for Sabo to grab his hand.

The Revolutionary was trembling— with grief or rage Ace did not know. "Stop lying." He choked. "Just stop.  _I don't believe you, okay?_  First you hide being mute, now this? What else are you keeping from us to ' _protect'_  us, huh?"

Ace gaped at Sabo for a long time, wavering between boiling indignation and devastating hurt. Tired of being crushed all the time, his mind chose anger. He tore his hand from the Revolutionary's grip, glaring.

" _I didn't cut myself that time. Pitch attacked me. And the bloody reason I never told you about it was because it wasn't important. I got attacked and hurt a bunch of times. Besides, that conversation was none of your damn business. No wonder you overheard and misunderstood."_  A vile sneer crossed Ace's face.  _"I guess I shouldn't have expected you to know me better. After all, you abandoned us for ten—"_

_Crack!_

Ace did not realize Sabo had been reading what he was writing until the Revolutionary's hand connected with his cheek. The Summer Spirit's head twisted with the force of the blow, teeth clacking together and biting the inside of his mouth. He felt something that was likely blood dribble over his lip and he reached up to touch his stinging cheek, eyes round.

Sabo stared back at him, Haki-covered hand still raised and expression equally shocked. As the two stared at one another, the Logia's expression morphed into one of guilt and horror. Ace's anger came back in a slow trickle rather than a rush. It filled the Summer Spirit so gradually that he almost did not notice it forming, bubbling up inside him, ready to break free.

Sabo hit him. The Logia has struck him. Not in a spar or anything like that, but in a situation straight out of his nightmares. Did he know? Did he intend to scare or beat Ace into submission? Did he expect the fire-user to be that  _weak_? The fire-user remembered the Revolutionary calling him fragile and his expression went cold. He did not allow himself to feel hurt. He wasn't going to let himself be pushed around anymore.

And  _of course_  the stupid fire was nagging Ace again, brighter and more blatant than ever before. It prodded at his consciousness like a persistent child or pet, begging for his attention and screaming angrily when it did not receive it. It was irritating and obnoxious and giving him a damn headache. He wanted it to stop. He wanted it gone. The Summer Spirit wanted to tear it away from the damn nightmare that  _trappedhurttrappedhelp him—_

Sabo leaned forward, reaching towards his brother with a quivering hand. "A-Ace. I-I didn't—"

Ace grabbed the fire and  _pulled_.

It came eagerly at his call, surrounding him, and his vision turned orange. The fire roared in his ears, covering all else, joyful and wild and  _free_. Something brushed at the edge of his mind, vacant and faded but distantly grateful, and then it grew silent. For a moment, a feeling of peace and triumph came over the Summer Spirit.

Then he heard something over the sound of crackling flames.

Screaming. Someone was screaming.

Ace's vision returned and his body locked. Sabo writhed on the floor before him, body lurching like he was having a seizure. His body was surrounded by angry orange flames, and as the stunned Summer Spirit watched, the fire separated from his brother, practically leaping through the open air. Ace tracked the flame from his hand to Sabo and something inside him screamed in horror.

Sabo. Sabo. He was hurting Sabo he was hurting his brother  _he was HURTING HIM—!_

Ace struggled to release the remaining fire but it fought against his commands. The consciousness that nagged him was gone but the flames did not want to go back. Their power belonged to him, not the human. They were meant for  _him_ —!

The Summer Spirit yanked his arm backwards and severed the connection. The fire snapped back to his brother like a stretched rubber band and the Sabo's body lurched like he had been struck. Ace fell from the bed, knees and hands slamming into the wood, and took heaving breaths, covered in sweat.

He stared at Sabo, unable to tear his gaze away, and to his relief, the Logia stirred. Sabo moaned, curling up on his side and gripping his stomach, and Ace staggered to his feet. He stepped forward, arms outstretched, and received a kick to the jaw. The Summer Spirit crumpled to the floor, cradling his cheek. Luffy stood between his brothers, expression wild. His back was to Sabo, his front to Ace, and if the fire-user looked close enough, he could see the terror in his brother's eyes.

"Stay away from him!" Luffy shouted. "What did you  _do?_ "

Ace pushed himself up onto his knees, eyes locked on the Revolutionary. Sabo's eyes were open but his skin was ashen and he shook visibly. The fire-user began to shake his head without knowing why. Luffy was still staring at him with terrified, angry eyes. It was like he was staring at an enemy instead of his beloved older brother.

Luffy did not take his silence well. "Answer me!  _Why did you hurt Sabo?!_ "

Something in Ace broke.

_I hurt Sabo._

He got to his feet.

_I hurt Sabo._

He backed away from his brothers.

_I hurt Sabo._

He saw Luffy's expression shift from anger to guilt and horror. The Straw Hat Pirate took a step towards Ace.

_I hurt my brother._

Ace turned and ran. He dodged Luffy's stretched arm, tearing the door to the infirmary open and running through the halls. It was nighttime so now one was there to get in his way which was good because he had to get away, he had to run, he was a monster he hurt people he had to get out before someone else—

Jack appeared in front of him, blocking his path. Ace twisted and pushed off the wall as he spun, dashing down another hall. He heard the Winter Spirit call after him but did not slow. He did not know if the Guardian knew what he had done but he could not risk being near him.

Ace  _hurt Sabo_. What would stop him from hurting his other brothers? How could he do that? Why would he do that? He really was a monster he should never have come back he never should have—

More people swarmed the halls, the quiet of night replaced by a frantic, loud chase. Memories of the nightmares where he was chased by angry mobs threatened to overwhelm Ace but he shoved them away. He had to focus. He could not risk losing control. He was a danger to everyone around him. He needed to get away before he could hurt anyone else but they were surely blocking the way out of the lower decks by now.

Ace shoved past two concerned pirates—  _I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'msorry_ — rounded a couple corners, and stumbled down an empty hallway. He held his breath as he heard pounding footsteps, and relaxed as they grew distant and faded. The fire-user's legs trembled and he looked around desperately. A door to his left opened.

"Ace?"

Barely registering the familiar voice, Ace dove into the room, pushing the person back as he slammed the door shut, seeking sanctuary and shelter and someplace to hide—  _Sabo Sabo_ _ **he hurt Sabo—!**_

Ace sank to the floor and put his hands on his head, rocking back and forth. His helper placed his hands on his shoulders and the fire-user recoiled, scrambling backwards until his back hit the wall. He looked up to see Marco crouching in front of him, hands raised peacefully. The Phoenix's expression was stoic but calm. He was not angry with Ace. Didn't he know what he had done?

"Calm down, Ace." Marco soothed. "You're safe. Whatever happened, you're safe."

Ace shook his head violently and reached up, gripping his hair. He was not safe. He was the opposite of safe. He was dangerous. He was a menace to everyone around him. He was a monster. He hurt his younger brother.

Why why why why  _why?_

The Summer Spirit did not notice that Marco had moved until the Phoenix's arms wrapped around him. He also did not notice he was crying until the blond-haired Commander brushed away a few of his tears. Ace stared at Marco for a moment before pressing his face to his shirt, gripping his older brother desperately. He could trust himself around Marco, right? Marco was a Phoenix so he could heal if Ace was a monster and hurt him with his fire. But Sabo was a Fire Logia and the Summer Spirit still managed to hurt  _him_.

_I hurt Sabo._

Ace did not bother trying to stifle his sobs. Marco let him cry, rubbing soothing circles on his back as his chin rested atop the fire-user's head.

" Shh. Shhhh. It's okay." he said softly. "It's going to be okay…  _foolish boy_."

Ace barely had time to register the words before Marco's hands lifted and locked around his neck. Using the full brunt of his greater weight, the Phoenix pushed the frozen Summer Spirit to the ground. Ace hit the floor, pain lancing through his shoulder, but before he could try to rise, the Phoenix was on top of him, keeping him pinned down.

Marco's eyes were a sickly yellow, gleaming like poisoned stars, and as Ace stared at him in mute confusion, his lips twisted into a familiar, sadistic grin. He could not spot any recognition in those yellow irises. No compassion, no kindness, no  _Marco_. Instead madness and an eager rage danced in those eyes, reminding Ace of a spider who had happened upon a helpless fly in its web.

There was no question of who Ace was really facing.

_Pitch._

Ace did not know how or why or when the Spirit of Fear got to—  _possessed_?— Marco. He did not have the time to care. He thrashed in the 'Phoenix's' hold, clawing at the hands around his throat and intent on breaking free. Meek acceptance would mean death, and the Summer Spirit had no desire to die without making up for his captor did not appear to even notice his struggles, too busy slowly strangling him, his thumb and fingers pressing almost gently against his jugular.

Of course he was cutting off Ace's air. It was Pitch's modus operandi by now. Few things could give Ace the same feeling of helplessness as Marco's fingers crushed his windpipe. Pitch knew this. He knew exactly how to make the fire-user feel vulnerable. And yet it was not dying that the Summer Spirit feared, or even the Nightmare King that possessed the Phoenix's body. Instead, his fear was for Marco himself.

Ace knew how Pitch worked. He knew what the Spirit of Fear was likely trying to do. How would Marco feel if he woke up and found out that he had killed his brother with his own hands? Or, even worse, what if he was conscious in there somewhere, and was perfectly aware of what was happening but was unable to stop it?

Not-Marco smirked. "Thank you for making this so easy, boy. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get you alone."

He said the words in Marco's voice, but it was all  _wrong_. The tone was too smooth and gloating to even remotely resemble the Phoenix's. Ace's only response was a soft choke, and Pitch-Marco's grin widened viciously, unnatural and disturbing on his normally stoic visage. The fire-user searched for any sign of the real Marco in that cruel face but all he saw was triumph and hate. There was a distant crash and yellow eyes flicked towards the door.

"Hmm. It appears we are about to have some company. Let's go somewhere a little more private, shall we?" Not-Marco hissed. Then his cruel grin returned. "Though I do have to wonder if they'll even try to find you. You do have a nasty habit of running away, after all."

The Phoenix lifted Ace's head and slammed it into the floor. The Summer Spirit's vision swayed sickeningly but he did not get knocked out. Rather than become irritated, Pitch grinned and bashed his head against the floor again, and again when he stubbornly stayed conscious. Ace felt blood trickle through his hair and struggled feebly. Fire flickered at his fingertips and Marco's face distorted.

Ace's head struck the wooden floor with an audible  _crack_ , and everything went black.

ROTGOPROTGOP

_Marco was exhausted. The Phoenix hated to admit it, but he was already tired beyond belief. He honestly could not understand how Ace managed to function for so long. Though it probably did not help his energy level any that Marco had to keep healing himself to keep the black sand at bay._

_The Commander trekked towards his room, dragging a hand across his eyes. It was becoming a chore to even put one foot in front of the other, but he had to endure. He had to keep going. The alternative was unacceptable. Marco lowered his hand and barely dodged as Thatch walked towards him with a towering tray of food. The chef yelped, struggling to keep his balance, and glared at the Phoenix._

" _Watch where you're go— Oh. Hey Marco!"_

_The Phoenix gave a mumbled greeting, peering at the food the chef was carrying. "Good morning, yoi. What's this for?" He gestured at the mugs and cookies stacked precariously on the plate._

_Thatch brightened. "I'm bringing some cocoa to Ace and his brothers. The kid always gets uncomfortable in the mess hall so I thought I'd bring them a snack."_

_Marco felt a smile tug at his lips. "They aren't in Ace's room. Jack, Luffy, and Sabo were on the Sunny last I checked and Ace was with Shanks on the Red Force."_

_Thatch's brow furrowed. "What does Shanks want with Ace?"_

_The Phoenix shrugged. "No idea, yoi. But if that idiot tries to give him sake I'm kicking his ass."_

_The chef chuckled. "If he does, you probably won't get the chance. I wonder who will kill him first, Bay or James?"_

_Marco kept a straight face. "Bay."_

" _Definitely Bay." Thatch agreed. He considered the cocoa and shrugged. "I might as well make some more and take this to the Sunny. I hope Sanji doesn't mind."_

" _He'll probably be angrier at his Captain than you, yoi." Marco said, amused._

_Thatch nodded with a mischievous grin. "Probably. Those Straw Hats are such an interesting bunch. Can we keep them?" His expression grew hopeful._

_Marco rolled his eyes. "They're not stray kittens, yoi. Let them follow their own dreams, okay?"_

" _Fiiinnnneeee." The chef huffed. "See ya, Marco. I'm off to go bug them."_

_The Phoenix waved and continued to his room, shutting the door gently behind him. He went to his desk and stared balefully at the stack of paperwork he was supposed to be doing. With his luck, it would put him to sleep. Even thinking about the boring documents he had to read was making Marco feel muddled. Why did pirates even need to do this type of thing anyway?_

Because we're a huge organization with a budget and I'm one of the few responsible Commanders, yoi.  _He reminded himself_. Right.

_The Phoenix heard footsteps come up behind him and rubbed at his eyes, hoping the action would erase the signs of his exhaustion. Strange, but Marco never heard someone open the—_

_Before he could turn a hand grabbed his arm, another latching onto the back of his neck. The Phoenix's head slammed into the tabletop with a crack, and his vision doubled. Nails dug into his wrists and he cried out. His shout was muffled by his attacker's other palm._

_Marco instinctively tried to transform, only for his muscles to go taut, straining unnaturally like his limbs were being twisted. His insides felt like they were being ripped apart, a tearing sensation lancing through his abdomen that made him think he was being torn in half. Again, his scream was stifled by his assailant._

" _Now, there's no need for that…"_

_Marco's heart froze before leaping into overdrive as he recognized the silky voice. He struggled but Pitch kept him pinned with embarrassing ease, one hand still clamped over his mouth and the other keeping his wrists together. The Phoenix may as well be a rabbit trying to escape a trap._

_The Spirit of Fear chuckled. "It's terrible, isn't it? Being helpless. Knowing that no matter how hard you try, you cannot win."_

_Marco glared at the Nightmare King, continuing to thrash. The only evidence that Pitch took note of his efforts was the superior smirk he bore. "I would love to explain things to you, but I believe it's better to learn through doing, don't you agree?"_

_The Phoenix gave a muffled shout of rage. Pitch grinned and yanked him upward, replacing the hand silencing him with sand. Marco gave a muffled grunt of disgust as he felt the cold, gritty substance on his tongue. The Spirit of Fear held him firmly by the wrists and neck, adjusting the grip on his nape minutely._

" _I could knock you out with my sand, but I think this is more fun." The Nightmare King commented lightly._

_It was only then that Marco realized what Pitch was going to do._

No—!

_His head connected with the wood, harder than before, and the world faded away._

ROTGOPROTGOP

_Cold._

_Cold._

_It was so cold._

_Pain._

_He was in pain._

_He was being impaled._

_Something wasn't—_

_He couldn't—_

_Help…_

_He felt something driving its way through his body, apathetic to how it tore through his organs and veins, and he felt like he was being ripped to shreds. His muscles seemed to shake and strain and yet he had no muscles, no body, no eyes, nothing. Instead everything was darkness._

_It surrounded him, stabbed him, sank its claws into his mind, and no matter how much he writhed and fought and screamed it did not let go. The darkness forced its way deeper and he felt something begin to strain and crack. He tried to shield himself, to imagine a wall between him and it, but it tore through his defenses like they were made of paper._

_Too quickly, the darkness reached its destination. It reached it so easily, in fact, that he wondered if he had put up any resistance at all. He had no heart, but he still had something else to hurt and control._ _Too quickly, the darkness surrounded his soul, circling it like a predator creeping in for the kill. Then it stabbed into his soul, chaining it in chilling numbness and everything went black._

 _When he woke, the world was like a dream. Everything was distant and strange, almost surreal._ _**He looked down at his host's tanned hands and flexed his fingers. Slowly, a smirk made its way onto his face.** _

_Resist. He had to resist. Resist what?_

_**He opened his shirt, grinning at the darkness churning in the hole in his chest, and swiftly closed the purple top again, hiding it from view. He stood up and left his room, going over his plan once more,** _ _even as he struggled and babbled weakly somewhere in his mind, confused and in pain and what was going on it hurts—_

 _**He entered the brat's room and looked around, taking in the neat and orderly layout of it all. This was the boy's sanctuary, the place he could hide to think and find some semblance of peace. The thought angered him. The brat did not deserve peace. He needed to suffer his every waking moment. He needed to learn that he was not welcome** _ **anywhere** _**. Monsters like them could never find happiness, and it was his job to make sure the brat knew it.** _

_**The foolish boy thought he had a family that loved him. He thought he had people to turn to. What made him so special that these bastards let him stay and supported the brat when he was left to** _ **rot?**

 _**Rage. It burned through him like the flames of Hell, swift and eager to come to at his call. He ripped the room apart. Talons tore through wood, haphazardly, savagely, flashes of skin and blood replacing the carnage around him before vanishing just as quickly. Something inside him wished it would stay, yearning to sink his claws into that foolish boy, to make him writhe and suffer and** _ **beg** _**for daring to try to manipulate him. But he could not do that. Not yet. He had a plan and he would stick to it.** _

_**He turned on the walls, carving messages into the wood, every hate-filled taunt coming easily to his mind. He knew what the boy feared. He knew what others thought. There were no lies here. He was sharing the truth. And that would make it all the worse for the pitiful wretch.** _

_**Once he was done he retreated, pace calm, face neutral, not a single hair out of place. He went to his room and waited, and when the rubber nuisance crashed into his room, eyes wild and babbling inanely, he had to hold back a smile.** _

_He was more aware then. He asked if Ace was all right even as the darkness kept its hold on him, keeping him from sharing his situation like it held a gun to his head._ _**The darkness wanted to move his hands up just a little and strangle the foolish boy.** _ _The part of him that was confused and faint and whatwasgoingon resisted_ _**, and the darkness agreed. As fun as it would be to kill the boy now and see his comrades' horrified, confused reactions, they had to follow the plan. So he acted normal, even as** _ _something very soft and distant inside him screamed and screamed._

_**He did not say 'yoi' once during the conversation.** _

_**None of them noticed.** _

_**When he heard about the foolish boy's suicide attempt, he almost laughed. His surge of regret and horror was not out of pity. He was merely disappointed that he had not been there to help goad the boy into taking his own life. Instead he was left to imagine what it would have been like. He could picture the anguished look on the fool's face when his precious older brother urged him to kill himself—** _ _Stop it stop it please stop._

 _**He summoned more images, imagining how the brat's last waking moments went in greater and greater detail, and** _ _he grew quiet once more, unable to handle the graphic pictures_ _**he** _ _conjured._

_**When he saw the miserable, grief-stricken look on Frost's face, he wanted to mock him, goad him, grind the thought that it was his fault into the Winter Spirit's mind until he truly believed it, but that would be out of character.** _

_A thought struck him and_ _**he readily followed it, trusting that his prisoner's actions were predictable and expected. After he handed Frost the cards,** _ _he stared at him_ _**.** _ _He tried to make him see something was wrong. He was trapped. He wasn't himself. Something was there it was all wrong help him HELP—!_

 _**The darkness smothered him for a long while. Then it was quiet.** _ _So quiet that he almost forgot it was there. Its grip on his soul did not fade, however. It was a little different, like a small piece was all that remained of it inside him, but it stayed like a slimy cloth in his mouth. It was_ _**him** _ _but not_ _**him** _ _. Almost like a placeholder? It kept him silent, kept him from shouting for help and that he was the ene—_

 _The darkness returned and ripped at his soul._ _**His fury was** _ _his_ _**fury and it took all of their self-control to keep them-him from storming into the infirmary and snapping the Summer Spirit's neck.** _ _So focused was he on keeping them from killing the kid, that he did not notice that he was helping_ _**him** _ _stay calm, stay neutral, revealing none of_ _**his** _ _rage to the world that would immediately know something was not right._ _**He kept calm. He stayed in character. He gave excuses. He waited for his chance.** _

_The kid tried to reach him. Somehow, his little brother sensed something was wrong. He grabbed for his hand but_ _**he** _ _backed away, letting Frost come up with his own conclusions._

 _**Whitebeard. He said Whitebeard.** _ _That was wrong. Notice. Please notice. PLEASE—!_

_He sank into oblivion._

_**A terrified, familiar face. Pale, freckled skin. Horrified flame-colored eyes. Hands clawed at his forearms while his own hands locked around a fragile neck. The boy was weeping. It was** _ _terrible_ _**glorious. It angered him to note that the boy's fear was not because of him, however. It was for** _ _him_ _**.** _

_He would not forgive himself if he killed the kid. His little brother. He was hurting his youngest sibling with his own two hands, ruthlessly cutting off his air and watching him struggle for breath. Maybe that was why he was screaming so loudly from his prison— threatening his captor and begging the kid to fight back, yes, KEEP FIGHTING DAMMIT!— but it did nothing to stop_ _**him** _ _. He was not strong enough. He could not tear control away from_ _**him** _ _._

_**He remembered the stupid boy's claims about that man and his fingers clenched. He felt his victim jerk and shudder beneath him and grinned. It was finally time for his revenge. He was going to make the boy suffer for his hubris. But not here. It would not do for Frost and Manny's band of misfits to stop him. He had learned his lesson. They would not make it to save the brat this time. He slammed the boy's head into the floor until he went limp and his cursed fire faded, then lifted the brat over his shoulder.** _

_He tried to grapple with_ _**him** _ _for control but his efforts were laughably feeble as the realization of what he had done overwhelmed him. His determination faltered as he recalled the kid's terrified face and his fear and remorse swallowed him whole. As his body walked willingly into the shadows with his captive, awareness faded completely. His mind went numb and his world was darkness, but that was okay._

_**This was just a nightmare, after all.** _


	43. Revelations

"Have you found him?"

If Izo was unnerved by the frost-covered, Wind-accompanied, glowing-eyed Winter Spirit leaning way too close to his face, he did not show it. The okama merely placed a hand on Jack's chest and gently shoved him out of his personal space, adjusting his kimono so it was no longer askew.

"I'm afraid not." He reported. "Ace does not appear to be on the ship."

"So you're saying he could be anywhere." Luffy said quietly.

Jack looked to his youngest brother, eyes flicking to Sabo unwillingly. The Revolutionary was still pale after his… altercation with Ace, but he was conscious and moving around. His participation in the search for the Summer Spirit might be due to stubbornness rather than good health, but the Winter Spirit knew better than to try to convince the blond-haired Logia to rest. Both brothers were hollow-eyed and sorrowful, a far cry from their usual carefree and cheerful dispositions, with the younger clinging to Ace's orange hat as if it were a lifeline.

It was certainly not what Jack expected to find when he returned from his airborne meeting with the other Guardians. They had been going over the specifics of their plan to attack Pitch— plotting out how to get Ace close enough and what to do if the white flames did not work— when shouts from below had drawn them back to the ship. North had landed his sleigh in the center of the Moby Dick's deck to find the ship in chaos as everyone chased after Ace, who vanished soon after Jack ran into him.

It did not take long for Jack to find out what happened in the infirmary. It took even less time for him to begin glaring angrily at Bunny as he checked over a pale-faced Sabo— "I'm fine, Jack. Really. Don't worry about me. We need to find Ace!"— spotting the guilt and sorrow in the Pooka's emerald-colored eyes. The Winter Spirit let it go for the moment, more focused on finding his lost brother than wringing answers from the Guardian of Hope. He would have taken to the sky by now searching, but as soon as they heard Ace was trying to run off again, the Whitebeard Pirates had put guards at all the potential exits to the ship. The Summer Spirit should not have been able to sneak past them.

The only reason Jack was not below deck checking long-unused storage rooms was because if Ace esca— ...made it by the guards, they needed a flier to stop him before he got too far. However, the Winter Spirit could not shake the feeling that they would not find the fire-user anywhere on the Moby Dick, the Red Force, or the Thousand Sunny— though he had no clue how or why the kid would decide to hide there.

Jack had been certain that Luffy would be jumping from boat to boat searching for his brother, but to his surprise the rubber pirate had deigned to remain with his ashen and ill-looking blond-haired brother. Not that the Winter Spirit could blame him. Needless to say, Sabo looked awful.

_What did Ace do? How did he grab the fire like that?_ _ **Why**_ _did he?_  Jack put a hand to his forehead.  _Don't think about it. I'll ask him when we find him._

"He can't have gotten far." Thatch said optimistically in response to Luffy's grim proclamation. "The kid was too tired to fly."

"So why haven't we found him yet?" Sabo asked softly.

Thatch's smile dimmed and he failed to give an answer.

Thudding footsteps diverted their attention and they all watched as Haruta stormed up onto the deck, dragging a quiet Squard along by his arm. The Captain was almost as pale as Sabo, his tattoo sticking out starkly against his blanched skin. The short Commander released Squard, making him stumble, and his lip curled.

"Maybe we haven't looked everywhere yet. I just found  _him_  standing in Marco's room, shaking in his boots and being useless." Haruta snarled disapprovingly.

His scorn snapped Squard out of his stupor and he glared briefly at the Commander. Then something dark flashed over his features and his expression grew empty.

"You might as well tell them to stop." The Captain said flatly, gesturing at the searching pirates. "You won't find Portgas here."

Haruta's mouth opened but Izo put a hand on his shoulder to silence him.

"What did you see?" the okama demanded.

Squard's lips parted and he hesitated, seeing that all eyes were on him. The Captain's back stiffened and he looked directly at Jack. Something in his harsh gaze softened and the Winter Spirit's stomach flipped.

"The kid is gone. I saw Marco take him." Squard admitted quietly. "He vanished into the shadows with Ace." His gaze went cold. "Like Pitch."

There was a beat of silence.

Jack's mind went blank, refusing to think anything at all.

Only Haruta reacted, grabbing the Captain by his shirt front and easily giving him a rough shake despite their size differences. "Are you  _kidding me? That's_  your answer? Do you hate Ace so much you'd waste our time like this, you  _bastard_?"

The Captain did not cower in the face of his anger. He grabbed Haruta's hands and tore them from his shirt.

"I would never lie about this." he hissed. "I know what I saw."

"What you saw was  _bogus_." Haruta snapped. "What, were you drunk or something? Hallucinating?" The Commander paused, then shook himself. "I mean, it's not like Pitch can possess people—"

"Actually, he can."

Everyone looked to Tooth, who froze beneath the sudden attention, feather's quivering. A heavy tension covered them all and all was silent except the low shushing of the waves. Jack's mind refused to comprehend the Guardian of Memories' words for a moment, but when he did, it felt like shadows were crawling up his spine.

_Oh no. Oh no no_ _ **no**_ _. I_ _ **knew**_ _Marco was acting weird! He kept staring at me and acting irritable. I thought it was because he was tired… He…_ _ **Pitch**_ _…_ _ **Pitch took Ace.**_ _Manny curse it!_ The Winter Spirit took a breath.  _Okay. Calm down. I need to think, not panic. Ace is with Marco…_ Jack reached into the pouch North gave him, fingers brushing one of the papers within.

_And now both are with freaking_ _ **Pitch**_ _. Damn it! Who knows what Pitch might be doing to them? By the time we get there… what if Ace is… is…_ A shiver went down his spine.  _This is not good. The probability that this is going to go really badly just got a whole lot bigger. The dagger might actually have to be used. But that means someone will have to imprison themselves. Not to mention that the explosion could engulf the island and kill everyone there_ —

_...We're idiots._

Comprehension dawned and Jack barely kept his posture lax. Slowly he lifted his head and met North's eyes, tipping his head in the direction of the Guardian of Wonder's precious sleigh. The Cossack's baby blues grew round and then hardened. He sat in the sleigh and looked at Bunny. The Pooka's ears quivered.

"Why didn't you mention that  _before?_ " Haruta thundered, finally breaking the stunned silence.

Tooth's feathers pressed close to her body and her eyes darted about as the pirates glared at her.

"We didn't think he'd be able to do it." Jack stepped forward, drawing their attention to him. "Pitch has been weak for a  _long_  time and he can usually only possess animals. I didn't think he'd be strong enough to take over a human. Especially not someone like Marco."

Bunny perched in the backseat, one paw already gripping the side of the sleigh.

"How did Pitch do it then?" Sabo asked, skin ashen from more than just concern. "If he did…  _possess_  Marco, that is."

Tooth saw North waving at her and settled beside the Cossack, looking a little confused.

"Don't ask me. I don't know how possession works! It's really not my kind of thing. Though if I had to guess, it was probably because of the sand." Jack shared after giving it a moment's thought. "Marco was tired and his defenses were down. He might have fallen asleep when we weren't watching. And unlike Ace, he isn't a Spirit of the Seasons, so he doesn't have Mother Nature's protection…"

A glum heaviness washed over the gathered humans then, eyes clouding and auras darkening with horror as the pirates struggled to understand what had supposedly happened to their beloved brother. Jack did not allow himself to dwell on it, focused more on the future rather than the past. He began to pace, every pass taking him closer to North's sleigh.

"So what do we do?" Izo asked, making many people jump. "If Pitch was possessing Marco, that means he knows  _all_ of our plans. What do we do now?"

Jack leaned against the sleigh, staff held casually in one hand. "We change the plan."

They all looked to him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

Out of all people, Luffy realized what they were planning first.

"Don't you dare." The Straw Hat Captain whispered.

The Winter Spirit smiled. "Sorry."

Jack dove into the sleigh as it took off, creating an ice wall behind it and wincing as Luffy's extended fist slammed into his creation, failing to break through. A few other pirates made to stop the Guardians but the sleigh got out of their reach too quickly for any to latch on.

" _JACK!_ "

The Winter Spirit heard Luffy's distant scream but did not look back. They were aloft, soaring over the ocean at top speed, and Jack showed Marco's Vivre Card to North, who redirected the sleigh without comment. After a few tense minutes, the Guardian of Fun looked behind them, relaxing slightly when he spotted no ships giving chase. He did not know the exact speeds of the vessels, but knew they would have a couple hours before they arrived at the island as well.

_I'd rather deal with an angry Luffy and Sabo than have them potentially die in an explosion… Then again, I might not be around to get yelled at._ Ice crept along Jack's staff. _It doesn't matter. As long as my brothers survive, I'll be content._  His blue eyes rested on Bunny and narrowed.  _Well, maybe after I get some answers._

Bunny felt the gaze boring into his back and met the Winter Spirit's icy eyes.

"You know what happened with Ace and Sabo." Jack said without preamble.

The Pooka looked helplessly at North.

The Cossack sighed and handed Tooth the reigns. "Drive, please."

She accepted without complaint. North climbed beside Jack, unbothered by the fact that he was hundreds of feet in the air, and settled next to him, worryingly solemn. The Winter Spirit tapped his staff on the floor impatiently.

"Power… does not disappear." North began slowly. "What exists must always exist, in one form or another. That form may change, and go from place to place, but it does not vanish. When a Spirit dies, their soul moves on but their power remains. It may go to another source, or back to its original owner who lent the passed their power, but it will always  _move_  to another. But naturally… there is a transition period. A small piece of time where the power moves, and can be  _caught_."

Jack watched silently as North took a deep breath. "Once upon a time, there was an accident. Not a bad accident, mind you, but one that was both lucky and unlucky. No one knows exactly what happened. It may have been a spell gone wrong. It may have been a foolish test on a magical item. Or perhaps it was fate. All that is known is that a Spirit from Earth was transported through the cosmos long ago, and ended up on a new planet. This event would be nothing spectacular, for it is quite common for some Legends to travel between worlds, but this case was special."

"On the world that the unknown Spirit landed on,  _everyone_  could see our kind. The Spirit could walk through a village and both adults and children would call out to him in greeting without even knowing who he was. It was wondrous. It was amazing. It was almost too good to be true. But it  _was_  true. After taking time to make sure his findings were not some strange dream, the Spirit made his way back to Earth and informed the greatest and Oldest Immortals of his discovery. Intrigued, a few of those Spirits went with the younger one to the other world, and found that he was indeed stating the truth. Among those that came were Tsar Lunar and Mother Nature, and they were shocked and rather excited. This was a world where Immortals could walk among and be believed in by all, and it opened up thousands of new possibilities."

"Many of the Immortals of Earth were struggling. The world was changing. Humans were changing. Their  _beliefs_ were changing. Those that were once seen as Gods were losing believers, some were at risk of fading away, and word of this new world where all would see them and grant them power was like an answer to their prayers. A select few were told of the strange planet, and after conferring with the locals of a powerful Ancient Kingdom on the miraculous world, agreed to come to it. Some came for believers. Some came to explore. Some came simply to  _live_."

"In exchange for offering their planet as a home for Spirits and other Immortals, the natives asked that a few Nature and Ocean Spirits help balance the nature of their world. The weather and oceans were… treacherous, to say the least. Islands had lightning storms that never ended. Others seemed to disappear completely. Waters held currents too untamable even for the hardiest of explorers to manage. The natives were not asking the Nature Spirits to  _tame_  the world for them, but just to make those places a bit more tolerable and give settlers a chance to explore. Eager to assist their believers, the Nature and Ocean Spirits agreed to help."

"A few years passed. The Spirits and natives lived in harmony, mingling together in a society that was nearly a utopia. It was like the Second coming of the Golden Age from millennium ago. But all things come to an end. Humanity, while capable of great acts of kindness and selflessness, can also be a terribly greedy species. They saw the abilities of Spirits and were awed. They saw the vitality of Myths and were intrigued. They saw that Legends were ageless and were envious. They wanted that power for themselves."

"One day, Spirits began disappearing. At first, many feared that Pitch Black had discovered this powerful planet as well and was preparing to attack. That fear was quickly forgotten when humans and other natives began to appear with abilities they should not have. The powers of Spirits and myths. The Spirits should have been thrilled to see natives develop phenomenal capabilities like theirs… except those that shared the same type of power as them could sense the essence of their missing comrades within the natives. An Air Spirit could sense the wind within a human who could control air currents, the presence almost screaming in their soul and begging to be released. It was like the human had ripped a Spirit's soul from their bodies and consumed them somehow."

"Which is exactly what they had done. Somehow, the scientists of Twenty Allied Kingdoms figured out a way to extract a Spirit's abilities and put them in a fruit, which could be consumed by a native and thus give them that Spirit's power. The process was not perfect. It usually gave them only one of the captured Spirits' gifts and made them nearly unrecognizable at times, and rarely— if ever— included the agelessness the humans— particularly their Kings— sought, but the connection was quickly discovered. The Spirits could sense their kin, wisps of their torn power or souls reaching out to Spirits' with similar gifts, begging to be freed."

"Indeed, that was what many of the Spirits did. If they sensed a power like their own within the natives, they could reach for that power, grab it, and  _tear_  it from the 'thief' that had no right to it. The power would come willingly to the Spirits, overjoyed to be released, and would peacefully merge with them as the remnants of the original torn souls were finally allowed to pass on or fade. Rumors spread. Information warped as it passed from person to person. Facts were forgotten and fables took their place. The fruits used to hold the Spirits' drained essences were said to be the spawn of the Devil, created by demented men who deserved to burn in hell for what they had done. Soon enough, they became known as Devil Fruits."

"Needless to say, the Spirits were  _furious_  once the truth came to light. The Ancient Kingdom they originally reached out to saw what the Twenty Kingdoms had done and were similarly incensed. In hindsight, it was easy to see that tensions were high between the Ancient Kingdom and the Twenty, but the horrific experiments conducted by the Twenty were the last straw. None can say who attacked whom first, but soon war broke out between those that sided with the Spirits they had welcomed to their planet, and those that had betrayed them."

"Battles were fought. Lands were destroyed. Spirits continued to disappear. Those that came from Earth were becoming angrier and more filled with hatred but they held themselves in check. They knew perfectly well that they could destroy the precious world if they wanted to and make the traitors pay. Doing so would also destroy their own allies, however, so they refrained. The Twenty Kingdoms kept capturing Spirits. Legends, Spirits, lesser Gods, wraiths, sprites, nymphs, mythological creatures and animals, Fairies, reapers, fae… many vanished, never to be seen again. Still, the travelers from Earth showed restraint."

"Then Poseidon, the God of the Ocean, Earth-Shaker, and one of the strongest Nature Spirits, vanished. Not long after, a human with the ability to create earthquakes appeared. The remaining Ocean Spirits were  _enraged_. They knew the humans had taken their patriarch and could do nothing to resurrect him. They also knew that eliminating every sentient creature responsible was impossible, so hunting down the traitors would be a meaningless task. So they got their revenge another way."

"They cursed the Devil Fruits so their eaters would be helpless in their waters. They also united with the Nature Spirits and— with Mother Nature's cold blessing— undid all the work they had done to try to balance the climate, tides, and weather of the world, making parts of it worse and deadlier than ever before. This was about ten years after the start of the conflict, and perhaps because of the Ocean and Nature Spirit's wrath, the war shifted further in the Spirits' favor. The Ancient Kingdom in which the Spirits and Legends were allied with was winning. Even though the Twenty Kingdoms outnumbered them, the Ancient Kingdom's technology and power was advanced enough that numbers mattered little. They were beating the traitors. They were nearing victory! The Twenty Kingdoms would pay for their hubris…"

"Then Devil Fruits appeared amongst the Ancient Kingdom's ranks. The Spirits felt  _betrayed_. How dare their allies use the essences of their fallen kin? The Kingdom claimed that they did not create those fruits, that some were created  _without_  using Spirits as an ingredient, and they were merely using the gifts the fruits offered to further put the odds in their favor, but it mattered little to the Spirits. Soon, the alliance broke apart, and the Immortals of Earth had  _enough_. They were tired of losing their kin to the natives of this world. They refused to fight in the natives' war any longer. So the most powerful among them released one final curse, ripping away the natives' memories of Spirits and their ability to see them and making it so it was nearly impossible to enter or leave the planet. The natives had been given a gift. They had used that gift for their own selfish gain. And so it was taken from them."

"Only one path was left open to travel to other worlds and if any who were unworthy found it and attempted to go through…" North chuckled darkly. "Let's just say they wouldn't survive the trip. Even after all that had happened, the Spirits still knew that not all from that world were traitorous and greedy. They wanted to believe in them, and give them a second chance if they sought it out, and that portal to Earth was left as a sign of good faith. It was all the good will they had left at that point."

"The Spirits left the world through that single pathway, abandoning the planet and their allies to their fate. Manny went with them. He does not know what happened here after that, I'm afraid. However, the repercussions of the war were felt even on Earth. The Ocean Spirits were still enraged. They were still angry at humanity for taking their patriarch away. And so they grew violent, killing humans that dared to cross their waters by the thousands. Eventually, the most powerful Spirits put a stop to it, killing those Spirits involved or stripping away their powers. It was then that the rule was made that Spirits could not target and kill humans unless they were allied with someone who threatened the cosmos, like Pitch Black. Those that went to that other world were sworn to secrecy, and the events that took place upon it were slowly forgotten by most involved."

"All of that happened over a period of a mere fifteen years. It is only a small piece of the puzzle, and I cannot say more for I have no more information to pass on, but I suppose that is the only information you need." North looked between Tooth and Jack with solemn blue eyes. "Do you understand what I have told you, Jack?"

For a long time, the Guardian of Fun could not respond, slowly digesting the Cossack's words. Jack's thoughts were racing too fast for him to decipher him, the information he had just been told bouncing around his brain.

Then he swallowed and broke his stunned silence. "Holy shit."

"Language." Tooth chided.

Jack ignored her, blue eyes wide as he gaped at North. "So you're telling me… Spirits came here before. Everyone could see them back then. They were betrayed and some were used to create Devil Fruits. They took part in a war but eventually said this world and its people weren't worth it, so they took everything they could— including people's memories and ability to see Spirits— and left."

"It is likely that not everyone's memories were erased." Bunny cut in. "Some were probably resistance to the curse, so they remembered enough to pass it on. Either way, the war apparently continued after the Spirits left, and eventually the Ancient Kingdom was defeated. The Man in the Moon wasn't around to see all that so we don't know exactly what happened."

"I don't care about that." Jack said shakily. "I just… I…  _Holy shit_."

"Language." Tooth growled.

The Guardian of Fun shook his head wildly. "I'm just trying to process this. I knew there was a reason they were called 'Devil Fruits' but dear Manny that's  _sick_. They took Spirits and did something to them to force their power and a little of their soul into a fruit…" He turned green. "Please tell me they aren't…  _aware_."

"It is unlikely the Spirit is fully aware and sentient anymore." North hurried to assure him. "Most likely, the 'presence' of them is an echo of what they once were. Like an afterimage or remnant more than the Spirit itself. There is not enough left for them to be considered 'awake'."

_Didn't some books claim that Devil Fruit users had to 'conquer the Devil' in order to Awaken?_  Jack thought. His stomach twisted into knots.  _Ace used to have a Devil Fruit. Was a Spirit there, in his fire, trapped and in pain and begging to be released…?_

The Winter Spirit breathed in sharply, feeling like he had been slapped across the face.

North saw his horrified look and his eyebrows lowered sternly. "I see that you understand why I am telling you all of this.  _Ace_  is a Fire Spirit.  _Sabo_  is a Fire Devil Fruit user. Ace subconsciously sensed the remnants of another Fire Spirit's power in Sabo, and tried to rip it out."

Everything having to do with Ace's tension around Sabo and his fire suddenly made an awful lot of sense. The fire-user's slight disgust and reservations when seeing Sabo use the flames. Bunny's concern and evasiveness about the subject. Why and how Ace was able to grab the flames and  _tear_  them out of his brother's skin—

Jack leaned over the side of the sleigh just in the nick of time. After emptying his stomach, the Winter Spirit sat up and put his head in his hands. He wanted to ask questions but the scattering of his thoughts were too pronounced. Something horrifying dawned on him and his head snapped up, his nausea overcome by fear.

"Is Sabo going to die?"

"According to Manny, the removal of a Devil Fruit user's power isn't inherently fatal unless the Spirit wishes it to be." Tooth revealed. She winced. "Most were killed by the Spirit after."

The Winter Spirit looked to the Guardians. "You're  _sure_  that it's just an echo of a Spirit's power and consciousness in the Devil Fruit and not an actual trapped soul, right?"

"Yes. Manny was very clear about that." North reassured him.

Jack exhaled. "Then… I don't think we should worry about it. We can just leave the Devil Fruit users be."

He felt more relieved than he probably should. If there had been sentient Spirits in the fruit, it may as well have been their duty to release them. Ace was a Fire Spirit. Jack was an Ice Spirit. There were probably at least a dozen Fruits they could each 'hijack', at least. But since there were no aware Immortals trapped in mortal cages, they could leave it be.

The ice-user was guiltily glad. He knew Ace would not be able to bear taking away Sabo's powers like that, even if there was a good reason. For himself, there was Aokiji. The former Marine Admiral was not exactly the kind of guy the Winter Spirit would wish to harm. He was not really an ally, but he wasn't a bad dude that deserved to have his powers stripped from him. Scratch that. Jack was really,  _really_  happy he and Ace did not have to make current Devil Fruit eaters pay for the sins of people of the distant past…

Jack remembered Ace swimming in the sea, and making a comment about Spirits of the Ocean.

" _Yeah. There's a couple. There used to be more than fifty— all that were almost as powerful as the Seasons!— but they got into trouble a few hundred years before I became a Spirit. They became arrogant and kept purposely attacking and killing humans. Mother Nature and the Seasons take care of most oversea storms and hurricanes now, while the remaining Ocean Spirits deal with the sea."_

_A few hundred years before I became a Spirit…_

Another realization struck like a blow and Jack nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned to stare at North, mouth agape. "This was— When the Spirits came—Was that during the  _Void Century_?"

North's brow furrowed. "It was about nine hundred years ago. I do not know if that is the time period you are thinking of."

"It is." Jack said faintly. "Holy shit."

Tooth smacked his arm, though the blow had barely any force behind it.

The Guardian of Fun put his head in his hands again. "I wish you'd told me— and Ace— about this sooner, but I guess I get why you didn't. This isn't something people should overhear." His hand slammed into the edge of the sleigh. "Dammit! If Ace had known he would've been more careful!"

Comprehension dawned and Jack struggled to hold back his nausea.  _The Government knows about this, don't they? That's why they want Ace alive._ He felt more than a little sick to his stomach.  _Or that's how Pitch convinced them to issue the 'Only Alive' bounty. Pitch must have told them what Ace was._

"…What are the chances that Pitch took Ace straight to the World Government?" he had to ask.

If North noticed his faint voice, he chose not to comment on it. "In my opinion, very low. Pitch hates Ace, and will not want to give him to anyone. He will wish to—" The Cossack winced. "— harm him himself."

"I don't know if I find that comforting or not." Jack mumbled. "We need to get to Ace fast. How long?"

Bunny glanced at the sky before looking ahead. "I'd say a few hours."

_That's not quick enough. Maybe Wind can…? No, that will only cause us to crash._  Jack's fists clenched.  _ **Dammit**_ _. Who knows what Pitch could be doing to Ace right now? Every minute we spend getting there is one he spends in that bastard's clutches. I need to get there,_ _ **now!**_

Jack's gaze lowered to the paper in his hand and his blue eyes hardened. He stood up, brushing past Tooth and crouching on the edge of the sleigh, staring intently ahead. The Guardian of Memories silently laid a hand on his arm and the Winter Spirit grabbed it, holding it briefly.

Ice formed around her wrist, pinning it to the sleigh. Tooth gave a startled exclamation and Bunny shouted, lunging for the Winter Spirit. Jack was too quick, darting out of the Pooka's reach.

"Sorry." he said, and leapt off.

As he fell, he heard Tooth gasp, and pictured her frantically feeling the empty space at her hip. Jack could not regret his decision to stop her from following him, unwilling to potentially sacrifice her life along with his own. Realizing what he had done— and intended to do— the Guardian of Memories gave a horrified shout, echoing Luffy's earlier scream.

" _JACK!_ "

The Winter Spirit ignored her, urging the Wind to carry him away. The Wind obliged, eager as he to rescue the fire child, and they sped over the ocean, leaving the others behind. They would be fine. He'd left them Thatch's Vivre Card. Jack closed his eyes briefly before glaring in the direction Marco's own  _burning_  paper led him, snow and frost flying in his wake. He had to get to Ace. He had to rescue him. He was  _not_  going to lose his brother again.

_Hold on, Ace. I'm coming to save you,_  Jack thought, and tightened his grip around the diamond dagger in his other hand.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Everything swayed. As awareness returned to Ace, a strange and almost sloshy feeling reverberated through his skull. It felt like his neck was unable to support his heavy head and the world was constantly shifting and tilting, his spine aching all the way down his back. It was accompanied by a sickening feeling in his stomach and throat and he swallowed on instinct, trying not to vomit.

The swaying did not stop and he tried to reach his head, gasping as what felt like thin ropes dug into his arms. Another soundless cry tried to force its way from his throat as pinpricks of pain spawned all over his body, growing worse with every flinch and lurch. Ace stilled, breathing heavily, and opened his eyes. The action only caused him more alarm, because  _he could not see anything_.

_I'm_ _**blind?!** _

The fire-user barely heard his own sharp breathing through the sound of the blood roaring in his ears as panicked confusion took hold. His body thrashed as he briefly panicked and again pain lanced through him, many sharp  _somethings_  biting into his flesh. Ace made himself go limp, muscles quivering as he fought against his instincts to struggle, and realized that he was strung up off the ground by his arms.

The ropes wrapped primarily around his wrists— which were thankfully a little protected by the bandages there— but went up his shoulders, with a few looped around his torso. Every breath seemed to cause them to dig into his skin a little so Ace tried to breathe shallowly, inhaling and exhaling small puffs of air. He slowly realized that there was something covering his eyes and shuddered briefly, relieved he was not blind.

The Summer Spirit stretched out his foot, trying to feel the ground beneath him with his toes, only to paw at empty air. He could be a couple inches above the ground or hundreds of feet and he would have no idea. Not one to fear heights, Ace stopped thinking about it and pulled at his bonds experimentally. The motion caused his body to start swinging again and he hit the sharp objects once more. Air hissed between his gritted teeth as one carved a line in his leg and he stopped wiggling, only able to wait for the kinetic energy to run out.

Eventually, Ace grew still again. The fire-user exhaled shakily and slowly lowered his head to his chest, trying to picture his situation. He was suspended in the air somewhere. He was surrounded by a lot of sharp things— likely spikes. He was blinded but not gagged… not that a gag would serve any purpose. Pitch already knew he was mute.

Ace remembered what had happened before he fell unconscious. It took a lot of effort not to start struggling again, to tear at his bonds with everything he had. It would not let him break free and would only get him hurt more, and getting hurt would not help Marco in the slightest.

The Summer Spirit's heartbeat sped up as he recalled the Phoenix's likely-possession and his bonds shifted. A horrifically familiar sensation crawled over Ace's skin and his stomach churned. Sand. His bonds were made entirely from the black sand. He felt the vile substance slither over his exposed flesh like snakes and held back a shiver.

The sand crept up from his chest towards Ace's neck and he tipped his head back, clamping his mouth shut and breathing sharply through his nose. Thankfully, the poison halted before it reached his collar bone. The fire-user wondered why, but then realized that Pitch likely did not want to accidentally hang him.

_Is he here?_

Blinded by what also felt like sand, Ace relied on his hearing, trying to keep his breathing soft as he strained his ears for the sounds of anyone else nearby. For a moment, all he heard was a low wind— He was outside?— which he hoped would not become strong enough to push him into the spikes. Then he heard heavy breathing that was not his own and definitely not Pitch's.

_Marco._

The sand over his eyes shifted and Ace pressed his lips together firmly as it crept down his face, over his mouth. It moved down his neck and rejoined the sand restraining him, and it was only then that the fire-user dared to open his eyes.

Ace nearly recoiled. Thank Manny he locked his muscles and did not. Spikes of sand surrounded him on all sides like a mix between a cage and an Iron Maiden. Each sharp point was barely a hairsbreadth away from his skin, skin which he noticed had small red lines and stab marks where he had swung into the barbs. Icy terror rushed through him as he realized the sand was inside him again but it diminished faster than it came.

_There's nothing to be afraid of. I won't let it take my freedom again._

As if to confirm his determined vow, Ace saw flashes of white flare at the puncture marks. The wounds did not heal, but the Summer Spirit felt… clean. There was no gritty, cold substance trickling through his veins. He tried to add fuel to the flames, to make them bigger and destroy his sandy restraints, but instead his ears rang and his vision swam. The fire-user squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that would make the world stop spinning, and gulped roughly to keep anything from coming up.

After shaking his head and instantly regretting it as the movement made his dizziness worse, Ace slowly parted his eyelids, taking in his surroundings more thoroughly. There was not much to see. He was indeed outside, but the fog covering the area hindered visibility greatly. Ace looked down and noted that he was about three feet above the ground, which was both better and worse than what he thought.

Carefully craning his neck to look upward, the Summer Spirit followed the thick lines of sand keeping him aloft into the fog, unable to see what it was connected to. For all he knew, there could be a rocky outcropping above him or he could be hanging from a custom statue with a fishing pole.

The thought of Pitch creating such a thing made Ace chuckle, throat straining slightly as he failed to make noise. That might be a good thing. The Nightmare King would not appreciate it if the Summer Spirit laughed in his presence. Ace looked around once more, searching for any sign of the Spirit of Fear, and frowned when he only saw fog and stone.

_Am I on top of a cliff or mountain?_

That was surprising. Ace thought Pitch would drag him back to his old cell in his underground lair. Being so far above ground and out in the open like this was… worrying. The Summer Spirit glared at his bonds and clenched his fists, trying to think of Pitch's motives. The Nightmare King always had a reason for everything, usually ones that involved causing people fear.

_Okay. So he strung me up on what might be a mountaintop. Almost like he's putting me on display…?_  Ace's brow furrowed and he felt a twinge of unease.  _That sounds like him. But with this fog, no one will be able to see anything._ The fire-user grimaced.  _Unless a Nature Spirit or some type of weather Devil Fruit user clears it. But what is Pitch's exact plan…?_

Ace shifted his arms in an attempt to ease the ache in his shoulders and winced as the movements made him collide with the spikes again. He glared up at the black sand and a spot of purple caught his eye. The Summer Spirit turned fully towards the color, unable to shout the name on his lips, and his eyes widened with alarm.

_Marco!_

The Phoenix sat on the ground slightly to Ace's left, legs neatly crossed and hands laid upon his knees. The fire-user may have the believed the Commander was meditating if not for the look in his eyes. His expression was neutral, almost relaxed, but his yellowed irises were wild with terror, like a monster stood before him that only he could see. Marco did not attempt to escape the invisible creature, however. Instead he merely sat like a man imprisoned in his own body, muscles lax and peaceful while his mind screamed inside.

Uncertain of how aware Marco was, Ace forgot himself and tried to get his brother's attention by shouting. Needless to say, barely an inaudible croak made it past his lips. The fire-user ground his teeth in frustration and pulled at his bonds, unnecessarily biting back a curse because of old habits as the spikes sliced his skin. The Summer Spirit looked down at his body, slightly sickened by the red streaks covering him. None of the gashes were too big, but more than one would require stitches. Particularly the rather nasty five-inch long cut on his left calf that oozed red.

_Damn it._

Ace looked back to Marco, who was still staring ahead vacantly. He supposed that his lack of reaction to his little brother's situation was enough evidence that the Phoenix was not seeing reality at the moment. The fire-user's heart sank at the thought.

_Marco's out of it. Okay then. That just means I have to get us out of here before Pitch shows up…_  He glanced at the slithering black sand that served as his chains.  _…Somehow._

Ace heard laughter. He looked around and did not spot Pitch, instead seeing hundreds of dancing shadows in the fog. Instead of being intimidated, his face instantly settled into a stoic mask as Pitch emerged from the fog, walking slowly towards him. The Summer Spirit's eyes flicked to the unresponsive Marco before returning to the Nightmare King.

_I have to keep his attention on me. Marco's heart is on the Moby Dick and he shouldn't be able to turn into a Fearling without it, but I don't want to risk it. I have to keep him safe._

Ace kept his alarm off his face as Pitch halted next to the sitting Phoenix, placing a hand on the Commander's shoulder. Marco did not even twitch, but his eyes grew empty and unaware. The fire-user prayed that did not mean he was sinking further into his mind— and the nightmares within. A sly smile crept onto Pitch's face and he met Ace's flame-colored eyes steadily.

"Don't pretend you are unafraid, Ace. I can sense your fear for him." He gave a small chuckle. "I should have guessed that using a hostage would make you easier to control. After all, a little hostage situation was how you were captured in the first place, correct?"

Ace remained stone-faced. He could not help but tense as Pitch reached out and touched Marco's cheek, tracing his jaw with long fingers.

"I could have kept possessing him, but his body is so  _fragile_  when compared to my own, even with that pesky healing factor of his. Not to mention that possession loses its luster when the host just gives up."

Ace's fingers curled into fists but other than that he showed no reaction, keeping his focus firmly on what was in front of him instead of allowing his mind to think about the Spirit of Fear's words.

"Don't worry; he isn't completely broken like you." The Nightmare King told the Summer Spirit calmly. "His mind is still… whole. He's just in a nightmare right now, even though he's technically 'awake'. I honestly don't know how he managed that. Perhaps he was so desperate to escape what I was doing that he simply… sank into his mind."

Burning anger ignited in Ace's chest and he glowered at Pitch. The Spirit of Fear released Marco and clasped his hands together pleasantly.

"Do you have a plan to save him yet? Have you conjured a grand scheme to escape and whisk him back home to safety?" Pitch smiled in a way that would be sweet on anyone else. "Here's some advice for you: I wouldn't try to use your fire. You'll just hurt him like you did your other brother."

Ace flinched, cringing as a spike stabbed his shoulder. His unreliable memory cleared and he trembled, Sabo's screams echoing in his mind. He pulled at his bonds, heedless of the scratches he gained as he swung, wishing to cover his ears and block out the sound.

_I hurt Sabo. I almost killed him._  Ace's eyes stung.  _Don't cry. I'm not allowed to cry._

"Oh, I'm sorry." Pitch said insincerely. "Did you repress the memory of what you did? My apologies. I didn't intend to make you remember what a horrible brother you are." His yellow eyes gleamed. "Honestly, you put me to shame. Even I have never almost  _murdered_  my family. Especially not by  _tearing their powers from their flesh_. How  _cruel_  can you be?"

Ace curled his fingers and felt his fingernails dig into his palms. He blinked and suddenly Pitch was in his face, a blank-eyed Marco at his side. The Nightmare King let go of the Phoenix and lightly touched Ace's throat. The Summer Spirit jerked away, cringing as he hit the spikes once more. Pitch grabbed him by the side of his neck, fingers splayed along his jaw. The hold was firm but not painful or choking— yet. It was simply meant to keep Ace turned towards him.

"You are a monster." Pitch informed him gently. "You were always a monster, and you will always be a monster. No matter what you do, you will only cause them pain. You  _know_  this to be true. You've seen it, experienced it yourself. Don't you think they'd be better off without you?"

The Nightmare King released him and Ace lowered his head, closing his eyes. His body shook but the pain from the spikes was nothing compared to the icy spears driving their way through his heart.

_He's right. I hurt Sabo. I'm a monster. I… I deserve to…_ He took a breath.  _ **No**_ _._   _If I die here, I won't be able to make amends. They want me to live, dammit._

Ace's glare returned and he stared into cold yellow eyes unflinchingly. Something dark seemed to flash in Pitch's gaze but other than that he did not seem to care about his prisoner's defiance.

"You really are too stubborn for your own good." The Nightmare King said flatly, all false pretenses gone. "Fine. I give up. I won't try to make you afraid. But that doesn't mean I can't make you  _writhe_."

Pitch flicked his fingers and the sand shifted. Ace dare not move, breathing shallowly as the spikes inched slowly towards him. He kept his eyes on Pitch, refusing to show weakness by looking away. The Nightmare King's hand jerked and a spike shot outward, slicing the bottoms of Ace's feet. The Summer Spirit's body lurched and swung into more barbs, the sharp spears of sand tearing at his clothes and sinking into his flesh.

Ace's jaws parted in a soundless cry and he jolted again as another spike grazed his ribs. He clamped his mouth shut and bit his tongue, clenching his teeth as an extending spear sliced across his lower back. The brutal cycle continued as he was batted about like a piñata, slamming into spikes with every swing.

The fire-user tried to stop himself from veering into the spears, but whenever he came close to succeeding, Pitch would extend a spike and slash him, starting the sequence all over again. The Spirit of Fear's grin was delighted; his expression akin to that of a child seeing a show as he watched his most hated enemy suffer—

Like a circuit in his memory was connected, Ace became all-too aware of a round shape in his pocket.

No. That was wrong. There was one person Pitch hated more than Ace. One Spirit who the Nightmare King despised more than anything else. One Spirit who was more of a threat to the Spirit of Fear than the Summer Spirit could ever be.

And Ace had a way straight to him.

_I am worried about Marco. I am worried about Jack. I fear for my family's lives._

Ace never thought that his skill at denying things to himself and 'not-thinking' about things would ever be of use. But he had to be in denial. No, he was  _not_  in denial. He was not 'not-thinking' about something. There was nothing wrong other than the usual. There was no new fear. There was no special globe that led to a portal that led directly to the Man in the Moon, the Nightmare King's worst enemy.

The spikes retreated and the Summer Spirit went limp in his bonds, chest heaving and his eyes on the ground. Apparently his self-deception worked because Pitch did not take the sphere and taunt him with it. Indeed, the Globe became the least of Ace's worries as Pitch grew bored with tormenting the Summer Spirit and put a sword to Marco's throat.

The Phoenix did not react to the deadly blade menacing him, keeping his vacant expression. The Summer Spirit had no such catatonia to fall back too, staying brutally aware as the Nightmare King pressed the sword to the Commander's neck. His body began to tremble and he barely felt it when the spikes pricked him. A flash of triumph crossed the Spirit of Fear's face.

"So you  _do_  still fear for them. But not enough to let it control you… What a shame. So now what? Aren't you going to beg for his life?" Pitch mocked.

Unable to do so and knowing it was useless to anyway, Ace glared at the Nightmare King. He kept his mouth shut stubbornly, refusing to even give him the satisfaction of taunting him for being incapable of voicing mouthed threats.

_Hurt him and I'll_ _ **kill you**_ , he ranted internally, teeth cracking.  _I'll burn you to a fucking_ _ **crisp**_ _._

"Is that hostility I sense? How curious. And here I thought you wanted to  _redeem_  me. Make up your mind, would you?" Pitch spoke each word slowly and derisively, like he was chiding a naughty child.

Ace's glower did not lessen.

The Nightmare King's eyes glinted. "I have to admit, I really  _am_  tempted to kill him in front of you right now." He spoke casually, keeping the sword to Marco's throat. "But you've proven to be so unpredictable and stubborn that I'm not even sure you'll react properly. You're not very  _fun_  anymore. Perhaps it's time to focus on a different target."

The sand holding Ace aloft released him. The fire-user grunted as he fell through the spikes— a few cutting him as he plunged— and hit the ground hard. He landed on his side, having purposely twisted his body so he did not risk landing on the star-filled Snow Globe that led to Manny. Almost like it was trying to reinforce his awareness of it, stars danced before Ace's eyes and his head swam.

Wincing slightly, Ace tried to push himself up, angrily noting that his hands were still bound together by more sand. Stumbling from disorientation, the Summer Spirit got to his aching, bloody feet as Pitch stepped away from Marco, lowering his sword. The Phoenix did not move. Not taking any chances, Ace hobbled up to Marco, standing between him and the Nightmare King.

"By now I'm sure you're thinking  _'What is he planning?' 'What is he going to do?'_ " Pitch smirked. "Foolish boy… I'm not going to do  _anything_."

Ace hesitated for a moment, eyes narrowing when Pitch only stood there. The Summer Spirit stayed stuck in place as well, wary of a trap or trick.

_He isn't moving or attacking. This is my best chance to catch him off guard. If I just have enough fire power to free Kozmotis…_

Pushing through the pain in his feet and the wooziness in his head, Ace ran for the Spirit of Fear, not bothering to potentially waste energy on freeing his hands as he tried to summon white flames to his palms. Pitch did not even try to dodge, staring intently at Ace with that same, superior smirk. The Summer Spirit did not allow himself to falter or hesitate, taking the last few steps…

…Only for a kick to send him flying to the side, his attack missing Pitch completely.

Ace's faint fire extinguished as he struck the earth, rolling a few times before skidding to a halt. The Summer Spirit got back onto his feet, freezing as he met alarmed green-tinged eyes. Marco stared at Ace for a long moment and his glare grew murderous, fury overtaking the fear in his expression. To the fire-user's horror, the Phoenix moved between him and Pitch, every movement screaming protectiveness.

Pitch laughed at the look on Ace's face, sadistic grin widening. "Don't take it personally, boy. It's not  _you_  that he's seeing."

Ace barely had time to comprehend the words before Marco raced forward, expression hard and unforgiving. Dark blue— nearly black— fire roared to life, and agony crossed the Commander's features. Then his face hardened and he pressed on, forcing himself to transform despite the pain.

Bones snapped and reformed. Skin split, changed, and healed. Greenish— formerly blue— eyes turned completely yellow. Tan flesh became sickening, shadow-like flames. Ace could only stand there and stare in horror as he took in Marco's corrupted Zoan form, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing.

Wings outstretched and fire dark even amongst the gloom and fog, the corrupted Phoenix gave an animalistic shriek and dove for the Summer Spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger? What cliffhanger? I don't see a cliffhanger. (sweet smile)  
> This has to be the chapter I'm the most nervous about posting. One does not simply do stuff with the Void Century and Devil Fruit origins in fanfics, and yet here I am. …Yay? ^-^'  
> I've known that I wanted Devil Fruits to be created from Spirits from the moment I started writing Fire and Ice. It started as the funny thought that Blackbeard's powers reminded me of Pitch's and vice-versa, and it just grew from there. Little ideas and questions popped up in my mind, and I molded said ideas and the answers into the 'history' above. I've been dropping breadcrumbs for a while, and I'm relieved to finally have the 'background' out there. At this point, so much is unknown about the Void century, so I decided to use it as a blank space to fill in while I could. I know stuff probably contradicts canon sooo much but if necessary I will hide behind the defense that this story is a crossover and an AU (and written before we know a lot of things about Devil Fruits etc.).  
> If something wasn't clear, I'll try to explain it, but I kept stuff pretty vague because I don't want to go into unnecessary details. The important points are there. Still, I hope you guys at least enjoyed my little explanation/ideas. :)


	44. Phoenix Song

Tooth could not prevent her hands from shaking. It was incomprehensible to her how North could fly the sleigh so steadily, his own large hands controlled and sturdy on the reins, while her own trembled like she had been stuck in a block of ice. Well, one  _had_  but that was beside the point.

By the time the Guardian of Memories had freed herself of Jack's improvised shackle, he had been long gone with no hope of them following him. All the Guardians could do was circle back towards the pirate ships and travel with them to the shadow island. But by the time they got there, it could be too late.

_Jack took the dagger. He's going to sacrifice himself to stop Pitch._

Every iota of Tooth's being rebelled against the idea, screaming that they could not let that happen. Jack should not have to lose his freedom to stop Pitch. Not only because the thought of the fun, playful Spirit being trapped in darkness for a millennium sent chills up her spine, but because he should not be expected to surrender his freedom.

It may be overprotectiveness or maybe arrogance talking, but in Tooth's mind, it should be one of the older Guardians that stabbed Pitch if it came to that. Not Jack or Ace. They were young and wild and wonderfully bright, and the thought of either of them becoming a prisoner in Pitch's black heart…

Before, Tooth had simply agreed to the possibility of using the dagger out of a sense of selfless duty, but now she found that she had another reason for wishing to tear the artifact from Jack's grip and ensure he could never use it himself. Jack and Ace deserved to be happy. More importantly, they deserved to be happy together, as a family. Tooth could see how much the two relied on each other and did not want to contemplate how one might react if the other was forced to sacrifice themselves.

_I can't let that happen. We need to hurry and reach them before it's too late._

Tooth blinked and rubbed at her eyes, squinting at the sky ahead of them suspiciously. Her eyes must be playing tricks on her but she swore she saw blue light hidden against the cerulean of the sky. Apparently she was not the only one to feel something was off.

Bunny frowned, leaning forward in his seat. "Isn't that—?"

Luffy, Sabo, Law, and Baby Tooth appeared next to the Pooka, sending him jumping into the air. The rubber pirate caught the Guardian of Hope before he could fall from the sleigh, laughing at the panicked look on the rabbit's face.

"Shishishi. Sorry, Kangaroo-guy." The Straw Hat Pirate said cheerfully.

He pulled Bunny back into the seat beside him and for a moment, the Pooka merely sat there like a deer in the headlights. Then he exploded, green eyes narrowed and face set in a furious scowl.

"What in Manny's name are you  _doing?_ " he growled. "And I'm a  _bunny_ , not a kangaroo!"

Law stared at him neutrally before turning to look at the ocean with a bored expression, not bothering to respond.

Sabo leaned back in a way that reminded Tooth of Jack at his most mischievous, an 'innocent' smile pulling at his lips. "We're making sure you don't leave us behind again. I'm surprised we caught up. You should almost be at the island by now."

He looked around, smile fading as he noticed the conspicuous absence of a certain Winter Spirit. Tooth felt her feathers droop and took it upon herself to explain before they could ask.

"Jack stole the dagger and Marco's card and went ahead without us." she informed them quietly, eyes on her clenched fists. "He realized that the explosion from sealing Pitch would kill anyone nearby so…"

Silence met her explanation and she risked a look at them. Luffy's brow was slightly furrowed, Law looked as unaffected as ever, and Sabo appeared to be ill. The Revolutionary took a calming breath and shoved a familiar paper at North.

"This is Marco's." Sabo said. "It'll lead us to him and the island."

North took the paper without comment.

Bunny was not so easily pacified.

"How'd ya get it?" the Pooka asked suspiciously.

"Stole it." The Revolutionary said unapologetically. "Now let's go get our brothers before they do something irreversibly stupid."

Something heavy landed on the back of the sleigh, pulling it to the side.

Tooth slid into Law and mumbled an apology while Bunny forgot his fear of heights, leaping onto the runners with a boomerang in hand. He froze, ears flattening in surprise and jaw dropping.

" _How did you get up here?!_ " the Pooka shrieked.

"I jumped." A familiar voice said. "You're not leaving me behind. I have a brat grandson to rescue!"

Sabo and Luffy turned bone white. Law sighed heavily and began to massage the bridge of his nose. Baby Tooth patted his hat consolingly. North burst out laughing. Tooth's thoughts screeched to a halt, mind going blank.

Needing confirmation that her initial thoughts were true, Tooth hesitantly leaned back, coming face to face with a wild grin. The Fairy stared at Garp, who stared back and picked his ear, the other hand clinging tightly to the runner. The Guardian of Memories continued to stare in speechless disbelief even as her hand rose to instinctively wave. The Marine stopped excavating his orifices and waved back.

Bunny emitted a sound that managed to be a laugh, whimper, and wail all at once. "I hate you. All of you. You're loons! You're menaces! No wonder Frostbite likes you! Your powers, your world, your people are all whacked! Stupidity runs in your bloody  _family_!"

Sabo and Luffy smiled unashamedly. Law rolled his eyes. North struggled to keep a straight face. Garp just laughed.

Tooth's could not maintain her smile and she stared ahead solemnly, fingernails digging into her palms. They finally had a way to their destination. She just hoped they made it in time.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace stumbled backwards, leaving bloody footprints in his wake, and felt a rush of air as the Phoenix slammed into the ground, talons striking his former position. The Zoan turned on him, eyes blazing with palpable terror and rage, and the fire-user threw himself to the side to avoid a swipe from dagger-like claws. He rolled to his feet, pain lancing from the injuries in his soles and legs, and dodged again as a shadow fell over him. The Summer Spirit gave a small gasp as the Zoan's foot barely missed his arm, deadly appendages sinking into the ground.

Marco's form wavered and he recoiled, avian body twisting in obvious pain. Forgetting himself, Ace got to his feet and approached, bound hands outstretched, and received a kick to the abdomen. The Summer Spirit struck the dirt, and as his body stopped his stomach kept rolling, the sickening sloshy feeling returning to his head. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and keep still but he had to keep moving. The fire-user pushed himself back up even as he retched, and the ground beneath him tipped.

Ace felt another warning gust and forced his body to the side. Talons nicked his arm but he barely flinched, too focused on surviving to acknowledge the minor damage. He got to his feet, propelling himself backwards and away from the rampaging Phoenix who turned on him like a snake chasing a crippled mouse.

Ace's time might be easier if the world would just  _stay still_. The fire-user nearly lost his balance, and nearly lost his head a second later. A swift duck took him out of danger, with the swipe close enough to rustle his hair.

_I'm going to be sick_ , Ace thought, stomach lurching.  _What the hell's wrong with me? Concussion, maybe?_

He klutzily evaded Marco as the Zoan snapped at him, ankle twisting and sending the Summer Spirit to the ground. A sharp beak instantly stabbed at his chest and he raised his arms defensively. The Phoenix's jaws tore through the black sand binding his hands together, barely missing his skin.

The Zoan reared back to strike again and Ace acted on instinct. Fire burst from his fingers, shooting him out of harm's way. The Summer Spirit hit the ground again and vomited onto the stone. He tried not to look at what came up, but swore there were noticeable black spots amongst it.

_I think I took one too many hits to the head_ , he thought faintly.  _Push through it. I have to focus._

Bluish-black flames filled Ace's vision and he threw his arms in front of his face, unable to scream as talons ripped through his forearms. The force of the blow sent him flying back and as he landed he saw the bandages around his wrists were gone. He gaped at the new and reopened crimson gashes in his flesh and repressed a shudder, getting back to his feet.

_Don't falter. Think. I need to stop Marco before he kills me._

Ace looked up, shivering when he saw the Phoenix staring back at him from above. Marco hovered, swaying slightly like he was debating his next move, and the fire-user finally had enough time to get a good look at him.

The corrupted Mythical Zoan was barely identifiable. His flames were almost black and looked more like shadows than fire, heavy, dripping, and smothering like suffocating ink. His talons were longer than normal, almost three-times their usual length, and were sharp like a demon's claws. And his  _eyes_ … There was no recognition or awareness in the Zoan's face. Only pure  _hatred_. If he had not seen the man transform in front of him, Ace would not even know it was his friend. The Summer Spirit knew that abhorrence was not meant for him, but that did not stop him from feeling unnerved by the utter  _loathing_  in Marco's poisonous yellow irises.

The Phoenix circled, weaving randomly and changing directions abruptly—  _Does he think he's being attacked?_ — seeking an opening. The fire-user wondered why Marco was not using his hybrid form and realized the Zoan might be unable to. The initial transformation had looked unnaturally painful, and Ace doubted Marco was willing to go through it again, especially during battle where it could be distracting. He kept his sight on the Zoan, using the reprieve to think.

_Okay. Marco is seeing an enemy instead of me because of the sand._   _It's almost like he's dreaming while awake. So how can I…?_ Ace could have slapped himself.  _I have to free him. Of course. But I don't even know if I can use my white fire right—_

The Phoenix dove like a bullet. Ace ran out of his path, movements growing frantic as Marco pursued him like a predator did prey. He did not spot the rocky wall until he nearly ran into it, reflexively ricocheting off the mountain to quickly change direction and avoid Marco's deadly talons. The acrobatics saved him while also making his head pound and he nearly fainted on the spot, falling to his knees. Through ringing ears, Ace heard Pitch's laughter.

"How long do you think you can keep this up, boy?" the Nightmare King asked. "You can't dodge forever!"

Something moved near Ace and he blindly jumped away, hearing more than seeing Marco claw the stone. He shook his head to clear it—  _Bad idea._ — and backed away, eying the Phoenix cautiously. A low sound like leaking steam reached his ears and he realized the Zoan was hissing. Marco stood crouched before him, wings flared menacingly, and the Summer Spirit was reminded of a rabid, wounded animal. It was obvious the pirate was not mindless but it was almost like he could not control his actions, acting more on instinct instead of his usual deadly strategy and intelligence.

_That's good. Marco's not at one hundred percent. I can use that._

Ace squinted at his enemy, closing his right eye when it failed to see through the fog. It was weird that the misty film was so much thicker in one eye than the other but he chalked it up to Pitch's warped idea of atmosphere. Personally, the fire-user found his enemy's choice of weather infuriating. He kept his eye—  _Stupid fog._ — on Marco, who continued to evade invisible attacks, hissing all the while.

Ace stepped back to put more distance between himself and the Phoenix. His foot landed on empty air and his heart leapt into his throat as he fell back into nothingness. Marco chose that moment to lunge and his attack flew over Ace's head as the Summer Spirit dropped like a stone. The falling fire-user grabbed frantically at the stone in front of him, clinging to the edge of the cliff. His bare feet scrabbled for purchase, a task made harder by the blood leaking from his soles.

He heard Marco circling back behind him, the sound almost covered by Pitch's mocking laughter from above. Ace barely had time to note how close the cackles were before the Nightmare King's boot slammed down on his fingers. Ace recoiled and plummeted. Panic became a desperate fury and fire lit at his feet, propelling him upward and to safety. The startled fire-user landed hard and looked at his flameless feet dumbly.

The hair on his nape rose. Ace hurled his body out of the way as Marco dive-bombed him. The Phoenix twisted in midair, talons slamming into the Summer Spirit, and Ace was sent soaring once more. He tried to slow himself with fire but it refused to come at his call, blocked by something cold and scared that instead sent pricks of ice through his flesh.

The rocky wall materialized out of the fog and Ace's head acquainted itself with it. The fire-user slumped to the ground, curled up on one side, and blinked sluggishly. The island must be floating on the water, for why else would everything be tilting like he was on a ship in a stormy sea? Ace forced himself into a sitting position, lifting his eyelids, only to realize they were already open.

_It's so dark…_

The fire-user took a ragged breath and pushed down his nausea, squinting at the dark splotch that stood out among the stars and shadows. His vision cleared enough for him to recognize Marco who stared back at him with his intense, hate-filled eyes.

Ace wondered what the Phoenix was seeing. Pitch, broken and defeated? Superior and sneering? Mocking and goading? A different enemy entirely? He supposed it did not matter.

As inevitably as night would fall, Marco would attack and the Summer Spirit was not sure he could dodge again. Even if he did, he would eventually falter and the Phoenix would probably kill him. Ace tried to feel concern about his situation but could only feel a slight sadness for his brother. The fire-user did not think he wanted to die, but the alternative to frantically dodging was  _attacking_ , and he could not bear to risk harming Marco.

Except… the Phoenix would not want that. Not at all. He would be horrified if he hurt Ace. He'd blame himself, even though it was Ace's fault for not trying hard enough. Just like the fire-user put his friend's life over his own, Marco would definitely do the same for him. It was stupid to think otherwise.

Chilling comprehension dawned.  _I have to fight him. I_ _ **need**_ _to attack so I can live long enough to save him._

Foggy memories of familiar screams and anguished condemnations floated at the edge of his thoughts, but then the Zoan shot at him, claws outstretched. There was no time for regret. Apologizing mentally, Ace kicked the Phoenix straight in the jaw, forcing the Zoan to reel back. Planting his feet, the Summer Spirit let the warmth inside of him rise to the surface. Flames flickered at his fingertips, small but strong and he faced Marco head on. He did not have a choice. He could not keep dodging until his luck ran out and a fatal blow struck. He had to fight back—

_What if I hurt him like Sabo?_

The fire extinguished.

Marco slammed into Ace, talons sinking into his shoulders, and the fire-user's mouth opened in a voiceless scream. He threw out his hand and the Phoenix was sent sprawling, striking the ground with a sickening thud. The Zoan did not rise, eyes slipping closed, and Ace felt a jolt of fear that was brushed aside by nausea.

The fire-user woozily wondered when he had learned telekinesis before realizing he must have blasted the Phoenix away with wind or hot air. Giving a silent, befuddled giggle at his own stupidity, Ace stood up, swaying. The urge to lay right back down and curl into a little ball of misery reared its head but he dismissed it.

_I'm such an idiot. This isn't like Sabo at all. I'm not trying to take Marco's flames. I'm trying to stop Marco, free him. The white flames_ _**won't** _ _harm him._

Ignoring the doubts that whispered that he would only cause more harm, Ace staggered towards the winded Phoenix, struggling to grasp the fleeting, finicky warmth that was his exhausted fire. In hindsight, he should have tried this as soon as the 'fight' started, but he could curse his ineptness once Marco was free.

_I might only have enough in me for one shot at this. Manny give me strength._

Poisonous yellow eyes snapped open. Ace nearly lost his footing as Marco took to the air, wings flickering and oozing like melted shadows. Predicting the Phoenix's next move, the Summer Spirit stopped in place, staring intently up at him, and braced himself, waiting.

_One more dodge. Just one more. Focus. I can do this._

The Phoenix dove like a bullet. Ace stepped out of Marco's path, standing strong against the gusts of wind that accompanied the Phoenix. As soon as Marco was past him, the Summer Spirit jumped, landing on the Zoan's back and wrapping his arms around his friend's neck. Marco went berserk, taking to the air and thrashing in order to get rid of his unwanted passenger.

Ace held on as tightly as he could, trembling as the erratic flight patterns messed with his already shaky sense of balance. The fire-user gulped and tried to breathe through his nose in order to keep the meager contents of his stomach down. Eventually he buried his head in the cold, clingy 'flames' of the Phoenix, shutting his eyes.

_I can do this. I can free him._ _**Come on.** _

Warmth bloomed in his chest, rising to his clammy skin. White fire covered Spirit and Phoenix, the world becoming lost in the whiteness and roar of Ace's flames. Unsure of what to do, the fire-user followed his instincts, letting the fire do what it wished and seek out that which enslaved his friend. Marco continued to thrash in his arms, screeching like a rabid animal, but Ace gripped him as hard as he could, refusing to let go.

_Have to keep fighting for Marco. Have to free him._

His awareness seemed to stretch and split, like part of his mind had been forced from his body, and he felt a bolt of panic as everything turned into shadows and sharp sand. The vile substance was around him, inside him, covering him with its thick, ink-like embrace and slowly suffocating him.

For a second Ace faltered, lost in the dark, but among the clinging shadows he spotted something bright. To him, it looked like a floating ball of light wrapped in spiked black chains, poisoned points digging into the sphere and leaving it cracking and flickering.

_Marco._

Ace waded through the ink-like shadows and reached for the light. He pulled and pushed at the chains and flinched as they latched onto his body, assisting the ocean-like sand in trying to pull him under with hook-like tendrils. Terrible visions flashed through his consciousness, clawing at his mind.

_Thatch stood before him, smiling and cheerful, blissfully unaware as Teach rose up behind him and stabbed him through the heart, staining his white shirt red._

_Oyaji lay in his bed, pale and silent, as his health deteriorated and his body finally gave out beneath the strain._

_A lash hit his back and his captors cheered, demanding to see more of the Phoenix's miraculous healing abilities._

_Brother turned against brother, the crew splitting apart, unable to stay together now that the one that called them family was dead._

_He saw his own freckled face, eyes open and unseeing, heart ripped from his bloody chest. As he watched, his head turned, staring at him, and he asked why Marco let him die._

Ace knew what he was seeing. A part of him recoiled, unprepared for the raw lack of obstruction between him and Marco's fears. He had expected some type of shield or refusal from the Phoenix based on the simple principle that these were the man's  _secrets_ , ones that he would never show anyone because he was meant to be a pillar of strength.

Instead the Summer Spirit saw the fears as clearly as the sun on a cloudless day. He could only hope that it was because those fears and the sand that manipulated them were Marco's chains, and not because the Commander did not care anymore.

Ace dismissed his own concerns and shoved the visions away. It felt  _wrong_ , seeing and knowing what the Phoenix dreaded most so easily, but all the Summer Spirit could do was silently promise he would never share Marco's secrets, or even tell the man he knew.

The Summer Spirit gritted his teeth as the black sand stabbed more tendrils into his flesh, detaching from the light in its eagerness to smother the one that threatened it. Rather than quail, Ace fought the sand as it tried to drown him, refusing to sink into it and let it hold him captive again. It reeled back, unprepared by his willful resistance, and he pushed forwards, outwards, grabbing the sand and tearing it away from Marco's soul.

To Ace, it felt like shards of glass were being dragged through his skin as the sand— realizing he was shoving it back— decided to make its loss as painful as possible. The Summer Spirit lost track of reality as knives dug into— through— his arms, chest, and palms but he refused to let up. He expanded his consciousness further, taking the brunt of the sand's opposition, determined to keep Marco from feeling that same pain.

Marco had already been through enough. He had been possessed, manipulated, and enslaved by Pitch. He had been used as a puppet, forced to spy on and harm his brothers, made to betray those that he was loyal to the most. The thought angered Ace and his fire responded to his rage, as determined as he to free his brother.

_He. Isn't. Yours._

White flames roared and the black sand buckled beneath his will, turning into glass and shattering into pieces. Everything blurred, shifting from black to white, and then Ace and Marco were falling from the sky.

The Summer Spirit reached for the now-human Phoenix on instinct as air rushed by them, but the ground came up too quickly for him to try to slow their descents. Ace slammed into the stone hard enough to push the air from his lungs and he wheezed, grunting as his skeleton jarred, creaking ominously. Stinging pain lanced through him but a quick inspection proved it to be from his previous injuries.

The fire-user looked to his left, spotting Marco, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the Phoenix's chest moving. The skin Ace could see was perfectly clear, and his open shirt revealed a lack of shadows crawling through the hole in his chest.

_I did it._

A shaky smile pulled at Ace's lips. The sound of someone clapping made it vanish instantly. The fire-user looked up, spotting the Nightmare King, who continued to applaud him with a grin on his face.

"That looked fun." he commented.

Pitch stopped clapping, though his lips remained in a sarcastic smirk. The Nightmare King strode measuredly towards the two and a black spear formed in his hand. Ace spotted his target and forced himself onto his hands and knees, crawling over to Marco and covering the limp man with his body. He knew the Phoenix probably had a better chance to survive than he did but with the sand, nothing was certain.

The Nightmare King stopped in front of the Summer Spirit and Ace glared at him, daring him to come closer. Pitch looked as if he were struggling not to burst out laughing.

"You know, it's at times like this that I regret silencing you. I'm not a telepath, so I have no idea what you'd say. I have a feeling you'd be irritatingly defiant." Yellow eyes landed on the Phoenix and he grinned with too many teeth. "As for you…"

Marco tried to sit up and push his way between the Nightmare King and Ace, but the fire-user did not let him. Instead Ace kept the Phoenix behind him as he lifted himself off the ground, one arm wrapped partially around the blond-haired pirate to keep him back.

_I'm not letting you take another hit for me._

"D-Don't—"

Ace almost cringed when he heard the hoarse, strained tone of Marco's voice. The Phoenix sounded ill, like it was taking everything he had to speak, and the fire-user could barely hear him even though he was right next to the Commander. Pitch either did not or chose to ignore Marco's plea.

The Summer Spirit could picture the angry helplessness in Marco's blue eyes. He knew what the Phoenix must be thinking. The fire-user was his little brother. He should be protecting Ace, not the other way around. Knowing better than to look away from Pitch for even a second, Ace grasped Marco's hand, squeezing it lightly.

_You're going to be okay. We're_ _**both** _ _going to be okay._

Ace was determined to make sure the thought did not become a lie. He let his eyes flick over the Nightmare King's body, taking note of his stance and balance. Pitch twirled the spear experimentally, studying the blade from every angle.

"I don't think you realize how pathetic you both look right now. A powerful Summer Spirit barely strong enough to stand, and a proud Yonko Commander too tired to protect his youngest brother. How tragically _pathetic_."

Ace felt Marco's breathing quicken slightly. He knew what the Phoenix must believe was going to happen next, but could only squeeze his hand again in comfort.

_I'm not going to do what you think. I promise_ , he wished he could say. _It's going to be okay._

Pitch chuckled. "You know, I was worried that he would overcome his fears like you did, but it seems I was mistaken.  _ **Excellent**_."

He raised the spear above his head. Ace felt Marco tense. The Summer Spirit did not avert his gaze from the weapon, muscles going taut. He knew what Pitch and Marco expected to happen. Both believed he would die, leaving the Phoenix at the mercy of his fears as the Nightmare King played with his new victim.

Ace was not about to let Pitch use his death to hurt Marco. The Summer Spirit knew that his mind should still be muddled and his powers still distant and faint. But in truth, warmth rushed through his veins, his strength returned either by freeing Marco or his own regained resolve, and although Ace was not strong he was  _far_  from helpless.

_Wait. Wait…_

Pitch stabbed.

Ace threw up a wall of orange fire, swinging his arm and shattering the sand-turned-glass before the blow could land. He lashed out, kicking the Nightmare King's feet out from under him and grabbed Marco by the arm, dragging him away. He heard Pitch regain his footing and gave Marco a shove, turning to strike the Spirit of Fear's next blade away with a flaming palm.

His right hand slammed into the Nightmare King's chest, sending him flying. Ace moved forward, intending to pursue, but stopped, unwilling to leave Marco's side. He heard the Phoenix panting, and risked a glance to see him trying to get to his feet. The Commander's skin was ashen with dark bags blatant beneath his eyes, and Ace did a mental calculation of how long he had been under Pitch's influence, wincing. Marco finally managed to rise, mouth set in a grim line.

"Don't give me that look, yoi." He said, voice slightly too breathy for him to have recovered. "I'm not going to just sit there like a duck."

Ace flapped his arms slightly and raised an eyebrow, putting on a teasing grin.

It took Marco a moment to understand, but when he did he gave a startled huff of a laugh. "I guess I walked into that one. I think I've been spending too much time with Thatch, yoi."

The two threw themselves to the sides as spears of sand impacted their former position. Ace summoned fire to his arms, soothed by the warmth, and glowered at the Nightmare King. The only sign that Pitch was livid was the madness lurking in his cold yellow eyes. The rest of his face was eerily neutral, but Ace felt no fear of the Spirit.

"I hate you." Pitch informed him softly, no inflection in his voice. "I really… truly…  _loathe you._  Why… won't you…  **DIE?!** "

A wall of sand hurtled towards Ace and Marco. The fire-user shielded the Phoenix with flames and his own body, grunting as he some of the sand struck his back. A familiar chill gripped him but a burst of heat vaporized the poison before it could try to affect him. The sand kept coming and Ace was forced to keep a constant shield of flames to protect himself and Marco. The Commander was still on the ground, breathing heavily, but he looked up when the Summer Spirit shot him a concerned look.

"I'm healing, yoi." Marco informed him, sounding out of breath. "It's just taking a little longer."

As he spoke, more color returned to his cheeks. Ace nodded firmly and shifted his right foot back, bracing against the tsunami of sand. Pitch seemed intent on drowning them or at least pushing them off the cliff because he did not let up, bombarding them with a constant torrent. It was nothing compared to the strain of fighting with the sand in his veins, so Ace did not falter beneath the swarm.

_Protect Marco. Have to protect him. I won't let Pitch hurt anyone else._

He heard Marco breathe in sharply and looked at him in alarm, meeting conflicted blue eyes. The Phoenix hesitated a moment and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"We… We have to… We  _can't_  kill him, yoi. As much as I wish we could for all that he's done, we can't." Marco admitted. "Do you think you can do whatever you were planning to with those flames?"

It sounded like it physically pained him to say each word. His tone suggested that he preferred any route other than the one that ended with 'Pitch's freedom' and hated to even suggest they try the process that would let 'Pitch walk free'.

Ace understood but he did not have time to educate the Commander about the difference between Kozmotis Pitchiner and Pitch Black so he merely shrugged and gave a small nod. He honestly was not certain he was capable of bringing the fallen General back, but he had the energy to at least  _try_. Marco's expression twisted into one of grim reluctance and he steadily got to his feet.

"I'm as healed as I can be, yoi. I'll pin him, you blast him. Ready?"

Ace maintained his shield with one hand, forming what appeared to be a small sun in the other. He nodded once and blue flames rippled along Marco's arms.

"Do it."

The Summer Spirit shoved the sun against the flame shield and it erupted, blasting through the swarm of sand. Marco transformed and flew past him, diving at Pitch. The Nightmare King smirked and batted the Phoenix away like he was a pesky fly. Ace threw a fireball at his face before he could attack the Zoan again, jumping aside to evade Pitch's responding torrent of sand.

Whips made of fire rippled from his hands and he flicked them at the Spirit of Fear, who ducked to avoid the flames. Ace followed his movements and sent a plume of fire in his path, striking Pitch directly in the chest. The Nightmare King staggered but did not fall. He stalked forward, expression murderous, but fled into the shadows as Marco dive-bombed him using the same type of move he had previously used on Ace.

Pitch reappeared and Ace ran at him, sending a wall of fire ahead. The Nightmare King balked, sight blocked by the flames, and with a triumphant cry, the Phoenix grabbed Pitch, talons sinking into his shoulders. The Spirit of Fear howled in pain and fury, thrashing in Marco's hold, but the Zoan refused to release his grip.

Not wasting a second, Ace leapt for the Nightmare King, hands blazing white.

Blackness wrapped around Ace's ankle, stopping him midair and pulling him to the ground. His front hit the dirt and his forehead bounced off the hard ground, making stars dance before his blurry eyes. Thee white flames extinguished long before they could reach Pitch, sputtering out like a feeble candle. Through spotty vision, Ace just managed to see the Nightmare King's savage grin.

" _Got you._ "

Ace did not need to be a telepath to know he had been played for a fool. Pitch had been 'caught' too quickly and 'faltered' too easily for the fight to be anything but a trap. The Nightmare King had forsaken flashiness and an extended battle for a gambit of feigned imbalance, pretending to be startled by the fire-user's returned strength when he truly was drawing him in for a quick kill. And like an overconfident idiot the Summer Spirit had waltzed right into his hands.

The Phoenix gave a concerned shriek. Pitch vanished, reappearing behind Marco, and the Phoenix was sent sprawling by a blast of sand. The Summer Spirit flinched as Marco's head connected with the rock with an audible crack, and the Commander did not rise, turning back into a human.

"Looks like Birdie is down for the count. Oops." Pitch mocked.

He flicked his hand and Ace felt a tugging sensation around his ankle. Cursing mentally, he struggled against the shadows as he was dragged across the ground. The sand slid over his body, locking his legs together and trapping his arms to his sides, preventing him from breaking free. Like an escaped slave being returned to his master, the Summer Spirit was forced onto his knees before the Nightmare King, helpless and in chains. Except he was not completely vulnerable.

_Never again._

When Pitch touched his neck, fire raced over Ace's skin. The Nightmare King recoiled, burnt fingers twitching, and the Summer Spirit smirked at him. Unsurprisingly, a furious snarl crossed the Spirit of Fear's countenance. Ace grunted as the sand snaked over his head, forcing his chin back and exposing his throat. Faster than a blink, a black spear formed in Pitch's grip and he raised it with both hands, yellow eyes gleaming with malice and hate.

" _ **Die**_." Pitch spat, and brought the spear down.

An invisible force blasted into the Nightmare King, throwing him sideways before the blow could land. Ace heard a welcome whisper and beamed, letting loose a silent laugh as the Wind tousled his hair. Jack landed in front of him a moment later, visage icy. He iced the shadows holding Ace, forcing them to release him.

As the Summer Spirit got to his feet, blue eyes snapped to the side and frost crackled at the top of his brother's staff. Ace glanced behind him and froze, torn between feeling relieved that Marco was up and the instinct to uselessly tell Jack to stop. Thankfully, the ice dissipated before the Winter Spirit could strike, Jack apparently having noticed the Phoenix's sand-free state.

"Are you two okay?" Jack asked briefly.

Ace nodded.

"Wonderful, yoi." Marco said with only a bit of sarcasm.

The Guardian of Fun relaxed further, only for his gaze to sharpen when he looked at Pitch. His left hand tightened and Ace caught sight of the dagger in his hand. His stomach dropped. The fire-user stepped towards his brother but both were forced to lunge out of the way as a scythe cleaved the air where they stood.

Pitch glared darkly at the two Spirits, shadows creeping over his face like scars. Yellow irises settled on Jack and the Spirit of Fear's countenance grew more feral.

" **I… hate… you…** " The Nightmare King snarled, voice low and growling like a demon from Hell's.

Jack glared at him unflinchingly. "The feeling is mutual."

The Winter Spirit shifted so he stood in front of Ace and Marco and he adjusted his grip on the infamous dagger. Pitch's eyes followed the light reflecting off the blade, but rather than look concerned, his face grew icily calm.

"So that's your little backup plan. Sealing me away along with yourself. How heroic of you. But…" Yellow eyes landed on Ace. "…are you willing to accept the cost? You do know that you will not be the only one affected, don't you? Or did Manny fail to tell you about how his parents died?"

Jack remained stoic. "Don't bother trying to distract me. No one is going to die here." The Winter Spirit said softly. "Not me, not you, and definitely not them."

Jack looked at Ace, gaze searching like he was trying to remember every line of his brother's face. The fire-user stared back intently, not bothering to hide the horror, grief, and anger in his expression, fully understanding exactly what the Winter Spirit was going to do.

_Don't. It isn't necessary. I can try to free Kozmotis. I'm strong enough!_  Ace wished he could shout.  _There's another way, if you let me try._   _You don't have to do this! You don't have to leave me._

Unable to hear his words, Jack gave him a small, easy smile. "Love you, little brother. And… I'm sorry. Wind."

Ace barely took a step before he and Marco were blasted backwards, thrown over the side of the cliff. The surprised Phoenix plunged instantly, but the Summer Spirit fought against gravity's pull. He tried to fly with plumes of flame but the Wind pushed him down, refusing to let him return to his brother's side.

The force of the gale parted the fog just enough for Ace to see Jack turn away from the edge and settle into a stance, staff and dagger held aloft, an image that seemed to burn its way into the fire-user's mind. He knew what was going to happen. He knew what Jack intended to do. He couldn't allow it. He wouldn't. He couldn't lose his brother. Not after everything.

_Please don't leave me alone._

Apologizing softly, the Wind gave Ace a shove.

The Summer Spirit fell, the fog snapped back into place, and his brother was gone.


	45. Accepting the Cost

Ace crashed into the ground, wincing as the collision caused the oxygen to harshly exit his lungs. Dust floated into the air and he coughed before pushing himself onto his feet for what felt like the thousandth time. He barely got onto his knees before the Wind shoved him back to the earth, refusing to even give him the chance to get airborne.

The Summer Spirit cringed as the gale struck his face, making his eyes water and sting, and quiet apologies were whispered in his ears. He glared at the seemingly-empty air in front of him, narrowing his eyes as the Wind gave another warning gust. He was honestly surprised it had not hammered him into the ground due to its eagerness to keep him out of the air and— more importantly— out of the fight with Pitch.

Bitter frustration bubbled up in Ace's chest and he crossed his arms, rolling onto his side. The Wind's forceful pushing eased slightly and it instead circled the Summer Spirit, still murmuring apologetically. He wanted to be angry and yell at it for stopping him from helping Jack, but he did not seem capable of the first and the second desire was impossible by default. Not that he would shout at the Wind regardless. It was only doing what Jack wanted it to. That was, prevent Ace from interfering and getting caught up in the explosion caused by Manny's dagger.

_Jack's going to sacrifice himself to stop Pitch._

The sound that came from Ace's damaged throat startled both the Wind and himself. It was barely audible and something like a sob with the softness of it only making it seem even more pathetic than usual. The Summer Spirit clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, remaining unmoving as the Wind ruffled his hair consolingly.

_Here I go again, being useless and crying like a baby when my family is in danger. I can't even beat Wind. How the hell could I think I could beat Pitch?_

Ace knew Kozmotis was in the Nightmare King. He knew the power that came from his center was capable of freeing the man. But in spite of his slight increase in energy and strength, he still was not able to get the chance to try. Instead Pitch caught him like an inconsequential annoyance almost instantly and if Jack had not shown up he would have died again.

_And now I'm lying around and feeling sorry for myself like normal. How productive._

Ace sat up and got a blast of air to the face for his trouble. The Summer Spirit leaned on one elbow, shoving blindly at the Wind in an attempt to make it stop ramming him. When he did not rise to his feet, the Wind calmed down, circling him peacefully again. Except it was not peaceful at all. The fire-user could practically feel its distress.

_We're both going to lose Jack._

Tension grew in Ace's limbs, creeping inward like icy water until it squeezed his lungs and heart. His throat closed off and his breathing grew sharp and shallow, each inhale taken in a frantic, painful gulp. He curled up, pressing his trembling arms against his chest as the world spun, black specks dancing in front of his eyes. He shut them tightly and furious self-loathing washed over him as teardrops pricked at them.

_Stop it. I can't panic now. Jack needs me. I'm wasting time._

Ace's breathing refused to slow so he tried to hold the air in his lungs. His attempts only made him dizzy, and the rigidity of his muscles grew worse. The Wind rushed around him in a panic, shrieking so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear his thundering heartbeat. It probably thought he was dying. Was it aware of organic issues like panic attacks?

_I have to stop freaking out. If I stop freaking out I can go stop what's making me freaking out. Come on,_ _**please** _ _…_

Ace wished his subconscious mind would follow his conscious mind's demands. Jack was going to use the dagger on Pitch, sacrificing himself to defeat the Nightmare King. That meant the fire-user was going to lose his older brother, possibly forever if they were 'lucky'. But if Ace could just  _get up_  and  _stop panicking_ , he could  _stop all that from happening_. Why couldn't his body  _realize that?_

Still hunched over, Ace got onto his knees again, shins flat on the ground and hands pressed to his sternum. His limbs still shook and his body ached, his lungs straining as they failed to take in enough air. The fire-user ignored it and gained his footing, staggering like an injured man as he tried to walk towards the cliff he could spot through the trees. A blast of air sent him sprawling. The Wind wrapped around him and brushed through his hair, sorry for what it had done but refusing to release go.

_Stop it you stupid breeze! Let me go! I can_ _**save him!** _

Ace wanted to scream but the sound was trapped inside him for more reasons than just his muteness. The constricting feeling in his chest grew, giving him the sensation that his ribs were being crushed, and his next inhale was an audibly strangled wheeze. The Wind stopped crushing him into the dirt and raced around him, making the branches of the barren trees rattle unsettlingly.

The fire-user laid his head on the ground, placing his hand back on his chest and emitting as much pressure as he could, wishing the action would cure his hysteria. Predictably, it did not, and instead everything grew foggy and distant.

A nearby tree snapped in half, twigs and large branches tumbling down successively. Ace's body jolted in frenzied response and he stared at the destruction, heart feeling like it was trying to escape his chest. Nothing leapt out of the shadows to kill him, and he slowly comprehended that the broken wood had been demolished by the Wind as it flew off.

_It left me?_

He tried not to feel hurt. He tried to reason that of course the Wind would not want to stay with him. It was loyal to Jack and loved the Winter Spirit, not Ace. Why would it care for him?

The shadowy forest was so dark. It was silent, oppressive, and very cold. The heaviness of the atmosphere seemed to double and a familiar, unwanted emotion choked Ace. He was alone,  _completely_  alone, a situation he had never wanted to experience again.

_If Jack uses the dagger, I'm going to be alone on Earth too. Everyone from my old life will be_ _**gone** _ _._

Unable to withstand the stress that came with his realization, Ace sank into a grey haze.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Jack wished he had more time. He wished he could fly over to Ace and hug him, tell him that he was proud of him as corny as that was. There were a lot more things he wished he could do and say to his brother, but it was too late. Ace was gone, pushed and hopefully kept away by the Wind, and no matter how much Jack wished it, there was no time for goodbyes and regrets.

The Winter Spirit stood before the Nightmare King, staff in one hand and dagger in the other. Pitch towered over him, silent and nearly one with the fog and darkness, only his enraged yellow eyes clearly visible amongst the shadows. He had no weapon, but Jack was not foolish enough to think that would not soon change.

Neither he nor Pitch had moved since the Guardian had shoved Ace over the edge of the cliff. Jack stayed still because of wariness, ready for an attack or trap, and Pitch  _might_  have for the same reason. The Winter Spirit did not want to consider his chances for fighting the Nightmare King one on one with no possible casualties nearby, but he liked to believe that his enemy was at least a little nervous about the weapon Jack held in his hand.

If Pitch was worried about the diamond dagger that could stop him, he did not show it. He stared at Jack, poisonous yellow eyes holding icy blue, not the slightest bit of emotion on his face. The Guardian of Fun was a little caught off guard. He expected threats, manipulations, or a berserk assault by now. He did not allow it to bother him yet he found himself reluctant to make the first move.

Pitch's eyes flicked past Jack, aimed downward, and widened slightly, the malice the Guardian expected trickling into his gaze. "Would you look at that? I'm impressed, Jack. You've managed to terrify him even when I couldn't."

The Winter Spirit did not turn away from the Nightmare King and barely spared his words a second thought. "Don't waste your breath. I'm not going to fall for your tricks, Pitch."

The Spirit of Fear's eyes returned to him and he shrugged. "Fine. Don't believe me. Shall we get started then since you're so eager to become a prisoner?"

Jack shifted his right foot back, balancing his weight and raising his staff. He'd had half-a-mind to try to attach the diamond dagger to his weapon but decided it would be best to keep the knife free for when he saw an opening. He wasn't really one for dual-wielding but he'd manage for this.

"You know you're still doing that 'manipulating' thing you do, right? Could you quit it for two seconds? It's kind of getting annoying."

"I'm not manipulating. I'm simply trying to make sure you understand what you're getting into." Pitch claimed delicately. "They did tell you what must be sacrificed to seal me, didn't they? I'm not just speaking of being trapped with me. I'm just concerned that you are unaware of the… emotional baggage."

Yellow eyes gleamed. "If you seal us, you won't just peacefully sleep as the years pass. You will be  _conscious_  and  _alone_ , floating in the darkness of my heart for millennia until we are inevitably released. Do you understand what I am saying? You will suffer for thousands of years, slowly losing your memories and mind as you are plagued by darkness you cannot comprehend, and by the time you are freed you will be as broken as your brother." Pitch's head tipped curiously. "I wonder if that will finally make you turn cold."

Jack was unmoved by his claims. "I might not be Nightlight, but I think I'll manage. I've done the whole sacrifice thing before, and having memory problems isn't new for me either. So how about you stop chatting and let's get this—"

Shadows shot from the ground like spears. Jack took to the air, twisting and weaving to avoid the blasts of darkness. Sand streaked among the lances and the Winter Spirit froze them with bolts of ice, shattering them as he dove back towards the ground. Pitch was looking up at him, grin wide and feral.

The Nightmare King sank into the shadows before Jack reached the stone. The Winter Spirit's staff slammed into the ground, freezing a large circle around him and he spun, weapon crackling with frost. Blue-white ice exploded from the crook and Pitch deflected the attack with black sand, sending the wave at Jack.

The Guardian lunged forward, staff pointed ahead, and burst through the sand, twisting on the ice and whacking Pitch in the side of the head. The Nightmare King slumped sideways and Jack continued his assault, darting in and blocking his enemy's sword with his staff. His other hand moved, driving the diamond dagger towards Pitch's chest, but the Nightmare King smacked it aside, shoving Jack away. The two enemies backed off, circling each other, and the Spirit of Fear smirked.

"That was a close one. I'm honestly surprised you're so impatient to throw your life away. And here I thought that the Guardians had come up with a happy alternative where no one had to die." Pitch mocked.

"That idea didn't pan out." Jack spat and shoved the Nightmare King away.

Pitch grinned at him, twirling his sword elegantly as he paced in front of the tense Winter Spirit. "Oh really? To me, it seems more like you don't even want to let little Ace  _try_  to free that  _fool_."

Jack glared at him coldly. "We both know it wouldn't work. I'm not about to let my little bro run into danger for nothing."

Pitch actually stopped moving and looked at him, features almost contemplative. "You truly don't believe him about Kozmotis." He murmured, not making it a question.

The Winter Spirit's grip on the dagger tightened and he responded anyway. "No. I don't. I know better.  _There is no good in you._ "

Something close to hurt flashed through the Nightmare King's expression but the Guardian was not fooled. Sure enough, Pitch lunged a second later, and Jack blocked the blow with his staff. The Spirit of Fear continued his close-range onslaught, trying to force the Winter Spirit to submit beneath the flurry of blows, but Jack was no slouch in melee combat.

He matched Pitch blow for blow, their weapons locking, and Jack blasted the Nightmare King directly in the face with ice. Pitch gave an enraged bellow, staggering backwards and rubbing at his blinded eyes and again Jack dove in, the dagger snapping into an upward position. The Spirit of Fear's body twisted out of the way, his foot snapping out and catching the Guardian in the side.

Jack grunted in pain as he slammed into the cliff wall but he kept a firm grip on the dagger and his staff. It would not do to let Pitch get ahold of either weapon. He rolled to his feet and leapt away from the rock face as shadows snapped from the stone like wriggling snakes. They grabbed for the Guardian but he shoved them away with a wave of snow and ice, swooping at Pitch.

His staff got past Pitch's guard and he clipped the Nightmare King's jaw. Jack had to duck to avoid getting a black sword to the throat, swaying to the side and bringing his crook up to deflect his enemy's following slash. He backed up, blocking and dodging as Pitch pursued him, keeping light on his feet to avoid the creeping shadows.

_If Bunny saw this, he'd make a snide comment and tell me to stop dancing_ , Jack thought, and a laugh bubbled from his throat.

Pitch twitched, startled by his sudden mirth and Jack smacked him directly in the nose with ice that did more than just 'nip'. The Nightmare King swore colorfully, hands clapped to his face, feeling all the pain from the injury that would result in permanent damage for a mortal. Seeing his chance, Jack lunged, diamond dagger raised.

Something cold wrapped around his wrist, forcing it and the dagger to the side, away from Pitch's chest. Jack barely had time to register the blackness on his arm before he pitched forward, tripped by the sand crawling up his legs. The Winter Spirit hit the ground hard, chin bouncing off the stone, and as his head swam and muscles loosened from the impact, he felt the dagger  _slip from his hand._

_No._

Blue eyes focused and his body jolted forward, fighting against the sand as he reached desperately for the dagger that slid across the ground, teetering on the edge of the cliff. The sand yanked him down again, shaking the earth, and the dagger tipped over the side.

A frantic scream tore its way from Jack's throat and he threw himself forward, kept restrained and immobile by the sand. He reached the edge of the cliff— or maybe Pitch let him go there— and could only watch in horror as the diamond dagger plummeted into the fog, vanishing from sight.

The Guardian and Spirit of Fear stared at the spot where it had disappeared for a long, silent moment. Then the Nightmare King began to laugh.

"Oops. Did I do that? It was an accident, I swear!" Pitch sneered in mock-regret, barely able to speak between the bouts of joyous laughter that came from him.

He flicked his hand and the shadows holding Jack dragged him into a sitting position. The Winter Spirit struggled, attempting to freeze his bonds, but another shadow looped around his neck, nearly cutting off his air. Pitch crouched in front of him so they were eye level, yellow irises gleaming with joy and malice.

"Congratulations. Your trump card is gone. What are you going to do now, Jack?"

Jack glared at him defiantly. "Kick your ass."

Pitch pretended to think about it. "How… about…  **No**."

He stood, a scythe forming in his hands, and swung it at Jack's neck.

A sword blocked the blade before it could touch the Winter Spirit's skin. Pitch had time to give an irritated sigh before a furry foot struck his head, sending him crashing into the wall. The sand holding Jack slumped uselessly to the ground like cut string and the Winter Spirit jumped to his feet, grabbing the person closest to him— Tooth.

"Did you catch the dagger when it fell?" Jack asked urgently.

The Guardian of Memories paled. "It's  _gone?_ "

"Well that answers that question…" Jack muttered.

He quickly took in his surroundings, surprised by some of the faces he saw. The Guardians were expected but Luffy, Sabo, Law, Baby Tooth, and  _Garp_  were definitely not. Jack guessed that the surgeon had been the one who freed him and gave him a short nod of thanks before turning to glare at his brothers.

" _Why_  are you here?" he growled.

Luffy stared back at him, not cowed. "We're here to help,  _duh_. Good thing, too. Where's Ace?"

Jack's teeth clenched so hard he heard them crack. "He's safe. You shouldn't be—"

"Yell at us later." Sabo interrupted, his own glare on someone other than his brothers. "We're here and nothing can change that. Focus on the matter at hand."

The group all turned towards the Nightmare King, who stared back at them with glowing yellow eyes. Jack wondered why he had not risen from his fallen position but brushed his useless questions aside as Pitch got to his feet, brushing himself off and looking mildly annoyed by the interruption.

"You all just keep popping out of the cliffside at the most inconvenient times, don't you?" he said flatly.

"Well, maybe if you stopped monologuing you'd do a better job at killing us." Jack replied scathingly.

The Nightmare King blinked and nodded slowly. "You're right." His eyes darkened. "I won't make the same mistake again."

There was no time for conversation. Frost crackled along Jack's staff. Sabo removed his pipe from his back, blackness and fire covering the metal. Bunny readied his boomerangs. Tooth gripped her swords. Luffy punched his open palm, hardening them both with Haki. North planted his feet. Garp grinned savagely. Law unsheathed his blade as his Room surrounded them all.

Pitch chuckled. "You are all  _fools_. You can fight all you want…" Darkness rose behind the Nightmare King like a wave, covering the sky. "…But you will  **never beat me** _ **.**_ "

He threw his hands forward and the tsunami of darkness and black sand hurtled towards the heroes.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

As his sense of touch returned, Ace kept his eyes closed. Locks of hair were sticking to his forehead and his skin felt clammy and tingly, prickling like he was being poked with needles. His body ached from the stress it had endured and his limbs quivered, suffering from the aftereffects of his panic attack. He'd like to delude himself into thinking he had overcome his source of anxiety but knew that his body had most likely merely exhausted itself.

_Yup. Still pathetic. But I've wasted enough time._

Ace opened his eyes and sat up, cradling his head before rising to his feet and ignoring the stinging in his cut soles. To his surprise, no invisible force rushed in to shove him back to the ground. He recalled why and his stomach churned. The Wind was still gone.

_It left me. Just like everyone leaves…_ Ace stopped his pity party before it could go further than that.  _I have to help Jack before it's too late._

He hobbled along, working the shakiness from his limbs and gauging his energy levels as he went. Ace was pleased to note that he was not too tired, all things considering, and could probably fly. He craned his neck, looking up the cliff towards the place he knew Jack was fighting Pitch.

_It's not over. If Jack stabbed Pitch I would have heard or felt the explosion. If Pitch won he'd be after me by now. I just need to get back up—_

There was a strange whistling sound. Ace jumped backwards, on high alert as he scanned the area for danger. His ears located the direction of the sound and his head snapped to the side, his eyes following a glinting speck that zipped into the canopy to his right, its disappearance marked by the sound of snapping twigs.

Not hesitating, Ace ran in the direction of the object, seeing near-perfectly despite the fog. Again, a glint caught his eye and he headed towards it, freezing just inside of the woods. Before him was the diamond dagger, quivering from the impact of its blade striking the ground.

The Summer Spirit crept towards it, stomach tying into knots as if he were approaching a bomb instead of a simple knife. Then again, the dagger was anything but simple, and as the implications of its placement struck him, Ace raced forward, tearing it out of the dirt.

_Please no please no pleaseplease_ _**please** _ _._

There was nothing to indicate the dagger had been used. The diamond remained as clear and light as ever, not a hint of darkness swimming within. Ace reminded himself about the explosion and exhaled faintly, wiping at his brow.

_Jack isn't sealed in there. That's… not good. He doesn't have a weapon to beat Pitch._

Ace looked skyward, eyes narrowing. He crouched slightly, preparing to lift off the ground, and a familiar force struck his back, sending him tumbling back to the earth. The Wind shouted in his ears, telling him how happy it was that he was okay, and the fire-user relaxed, patting at the moving gale. He heard a rustle and shoved the dagger into his pocket, rising to face the new threat.

Marco burst from the foliage, expression pained but eyes alert. He instantly spotted Ace and gave a relieved sigh, limping forward and hugging the fire-user. Ace went still, stunned by the almost desperate embrace, but eventually returned it. He heard the Phoenix take in a shuddering breath.

"I'm— I'm sorry I— I thought I…" The Commander shook his head, releasing Ace and stepping back, all signs of distress gone. "I'm glad you're okay, yoi. I'm guessing this is Jack's Wind?"

Ace nodded, still dumbfounded and wrapped his arms around himself, unsure of what to do with them. The Wind rustled his hair affectionately and the fire-user slowly realized it had left to search for the Phoenix for help. In his panic to get back to Jack, Ace had completely forgotten about Marco. He looked down briefly, masking the double-dose of guilt that must be blatant on his face.

If Marco saw it, he did not comment. "It was very insistent that I come this way, yoi. Kept blasting me in the back. At first I thought Pitch was sending an invisible creature after me. Then I remembered Jack's… friend." He lowered his voice. "Does it always push people around like that?"

Ace managed a smile and shrugged carelessly. He studied Marco's features carefully, noticing the pained strain in his jawline and eyes. He let his gaze travel over the Phoenix's body and frowned when he saw dried blood on his pant leg.

"I broke my leg in the fall, yoi." Marco revealed bluntly. "It's almost healed. My powers are still a little sluggish at the moment but I can fight."

Ace blinked at him then glared at the Wind. Understanding what he wanted, it murmured indecisively, unwilling to let the fire-child return to the battle. An explosion from above made all three of them freeze, and ice stabbed through Ace's heart before he remembered that the dagger was in his pocket.

_Jack's still free. But then who could have…?_ His eye twitched.  _…You two are in_ _ **so**_ _much trouble._

The Wind did not try to stop him as he took to the air, urging him along as fear for its friend overcame the desire to follow said friend's demands. Marco flew in his hybrid form beside him, flames wonderfully bright and blue, and Ace's thoughts turned towards his fight with the Phoenix.

_That's right. I freed Marco. I actually did it. I can free Kozmotis as well._

Ace twitched, surprised by the confidence in the thought. The Wind caught him before he could slam into the side of the cliff and gently readjusted his flight path. The fire-user gave a grateful smile and was relieved when it understood and whispered a sincere welcome in response.

His thoughts turned back towards the approaching fight and his jaw tightened.  _Can I really release Kozmotis? Freeing Marco was rough and Kozmotis has a whole lot more fear and actual Fearlings to deal with. Can I really do it?_

His doubts prodded at the back of his mind but they were soft and barely noticeable. He questioned whether his newfound 'confidence' was due to his success with Marco or spawned from a desperate need not to use the weapon in his pocket.

_I don't care either way. I'm going to try it. It isn't just about stopping a sacrifice. Kozmotis deserves to be freed. He deserves to get his body, mind, and life back. He's been trapped in darkness for so long… I want rescue, like my family rescued me. If I can save him, a good man will finally be free. If not…_

Ace touched the dagger he could feel in his pocket, his resolve strengthening. He had made his decision. If he were honest with himself, he had probably subconsciously made it long ago. No one else would sacrifice themselves today if he failed to free Kozmotis and thus end Pitch's rampage. Not when he could seal the Nightmare King himself. He was an older brother, a younger one, a son, and a friend, and if he had the chance to save his loved ones from the evil that threatened them, he would take it.

He wouldn't let himself do anything less.

ROTGOPROTGOP

The island was too quiet. Not a breath of wind whispered through the air. Not a single leaf crinkled on the barren ground. It was almost like sound did not exist in this place, but if Sanji strained his ears, he could just hear the rushing of the waves hitting the shore. He looked behind him at the ships anchored some distance from the coast, unable to sail into the shallow waters surrounding the island. The boats the Straw Hat, Whitebeard, and Red Hair Pirates had used to reach the beach were lined up behind them, with some pirates already settling around to stand guard.

_We're finally here. I just hope… No. We're_ _**not** _ _too late._

Sanji believed in his Captain— even though he wanted to kick the idiot in the face for the stunt he pulled, leaving them behind like that without so much as a word of warning. He knew Luffy would not allow a cruel fate to befall any of his brothers or companions when he fought the Nightmare King, waiting for backup that had just barely arrived.

The cook plucked his cigarette from between his teeth, exhaling and watching the smoke meld with the fog that clung to the island. He dropped the butt and turned to Thatch and Benn, whose gazes were as hard as his own.

"Are we all ready to move out?"

"Yes." The first mate of the Red Hair Pirates answered. "The boats are anchored, guards set up, and groups divided. Everyone knows the plan."

Thatch nodded sharply. "Search the island, locate Ace, send up a blue flare when we find him, green flare if we run into too many Fearlings to handle, red flare if we find the shadow-bastard." He held up a small gun-like contraption. "You're sure these'll show up with all this fog?"

"I'm sure." Sanji said, confident in his crewmates' inventions.

To the chef's credit, he did not question him further. "Okay."

Thatch looked over his shoulder and waved, catching Jozu's eye. The Third Division Commander bobbed his head in acknowledgement and turned to his division, who started heading out. Benn went to his Captain and Thatch moved as if to do the same, stopping before he walked more than a step. He briefly placed his hand on Sanji's shoulder.

"Good luck." He said briefly and left.

Sanji returned to his own crew and Koala, all of whom— minus Franky and Brook— stared at him expectantly.

"We going now?" Zoro asked impatiently.

"Yeah." Sanji replied shortly.

Usopp fiddled with his weapon, eyes dark with unease. "This is going to get chaotic really fast." he commented in a voice that betrayed his nervousness.

"Yeah." Nami hoisted her Clima-Tact onto her shoulder. "But it's not like it hasn't before."

The situation was not ideal. In fact, it was far from it. What they had intended to be an invasion had turned into a search and rescue mission and Sanji could only hope the last-minute alterations to their plan would not cause it to fail. Their intention had been to draw Pitch out and overwhelm him, but now they needed to find Ace, Marco, and those that had gone after them both.

Luckily they had a way to track two of those missing down. The cook glanced at the papers Nami and Koala held, grimacing when he saw the slight smoke coming from the edges. Luffy and Sabo were in danger, but it was not too serious just yet.

_They're probably engaging the enemy. But which ones? Fearlings, Nightmares, or Pitch himself?_

Either way, they needed to find their Captain, and— if their luck held out— doing so would lead them and the other searchers to Marco and Ace as well. Thus the changes to the plan. A wide-scale assault would just result in Pitch popping up out of the shadows and executing any prisoners he had. The pirates had to get closer to their friends' locations before letting their presences be known, sneaking in as much as possible before the Nightmare King noticed them.

It was risky to go through enemy territory in such relatively small groups, but splitting up their forces would make Pitch split up his minions to counter them. Many of the pirates had already shown they could hold off swarms of Fearlings and Nightmares, and they would be able to fight much more effectively without having to worry about damaging their ships.

As the Straw Hats and Koala moved quickly through the forest, only making the slightest sounds as they stepped on dusty black twigs, Sanji let his gaze wander over his companions.

Zoro was unaffected and grim, hands on his sword hilts. Nami was pale but determined, weapon drawn and eyes scanning the area. Usopp was ashen and shaking but his steps did not falter. Chopper was fidgety but firm, glancing at his bag occasionally like he was going over his supplies and treatments in his head. Robin was aloof and calm, walking steadily. Koala was similarly serene except for her hands, which were clenched into fists. Sabo was probably going to get punched in the head when they caught up with him.

Brook and Franky were guarding the Sunny. Sanji knew they had wanted to take part in the fight, but the two of them decided it would be best to watch over the ship after what almost happened last time. It made sense to the cook that the shipwright would wish to protect his vessel and if he allowed himself to think about it, he was glad the Soul King would not be anywhere near the Fearlings. Brook's undead state and powers could either make him easily overpower the Fearlings or make them swarm him like flies. Sanji did not wish to find out which scenario would be the case.

A green flare shot into the sky from somewhere on their left. Nami inhaled, the sound sharp and loud in the silence. Chopper stepped in the direction of the light but Zoro stopped him with a hand on his hat.

"They're too far away. Others are closer."

The doctor bit his lip. "But…"

"Just worry about us." Zoro said firmly. "Stay alert."

They kept moving, quicker than before, watching every shadow like it could spawn enemies. Considering who they were dealing with, that might just be the case. As they headed inland, their destination hidden by the endless fog, more green flares appeared in the grey sky.

Zoro gave a low growl. "Pitch definitely knows we're here."

Usopp gave a nervous chuckle that came out more like a squeak.

"I hope those guys are okay." Chopper fretted. "That last one was close. Maybe we should—"

Zoro staggered back, blood bursting from his side. The swordsman fell to his knees, teeth clenched and hand pressed to the wound, and Sanji shot in the direction of the attack, leg outstretched, and slammed into a familiar white-clothed figure. The cook barely had time to acknowledge his opponent was human before his foot struck the man's head, snapping his neck instantly. The  _Marine_  fell soundlessly to the ground, white coat splayed around him like a cape, and the Straw Hats and Koala stared at him in shock.

Sanji broke free of his stupor. "Take cover!"

He grabbed Nami, diving behind a tree, and a bullet rammed into the bark by his head. The navigator shrieked and swung her Clima-Tact, bisecting a Nightmare that spawned from the shadows of their cover. Sanji swore, beheading another Nightmare, and grimaced as more bullets struck the tree. He heard a distant shout.

"Don't let up, men! Kill the pirates!"

There was a beat of silence. Then bullets shot through the forest like a thousand, deadly bees. Sanji went to rush the Marines but was forced to divert his attack when more Nightmares and Fearlings appeared from the fog, flying towards them like demonic specters. Nami blasted a few with her Clima-Tact, Robin broke a few others, and Zoro temporarily cleared the air with a single slash.

Sanji spotted a large outcrop of rock nearby just as the swordsman did. He grabbed Nami and ran to the new source of cover, arriving just as the others did. Robin was already there, expression still calm and unflappable.

"It appears that the Marines are here. I hope there aren't any Admirals." She said.

"There probably are." Zoro guessed in a growl. "Why the hell are they here?"

"Stay still." Chopper glared at the swordsman to make him stop moving and began checking and wrapping his wound.

"Pitch must have told them we were coming." Koala concluded, looking like she wanted to slap herself. "He's known about our plans as long as Marco has, remember?"

Sanji's eyes narrowed and he felt a rush of resentful admiration for the Nightmare King. "We didn't even consider the Marines as a factor even though we knew they were allied with Pitch. We've been played for fools."

Usopp flinched as a bullet ricocheted off the rock near his head. "So what do we do?"

Zoro grinned savagely. "What we always do. Marines don't scare me."

"Fearlings scare me." Usopp admitted in a strained voice.

"Then target the guys in white coats." Sanji told him. "We're not going to let these guys stop us from reaching our Captain."

The sniper glanced at him hesitantly, then nodded, eyes growing sharp. "Okay."

"I've spotted the enemy." Robin informed them. "They are one hundred yards behind us."

"Understood. Remember: we stick together." Sanji said. "Ready?"

"Don't try to order me around, shitty cook." Zoro snapped even as he readied his swords.

"I wasn't trying to, Marimo!" Sanji spat back, flames licking at his legs.

The Straw Hats and Koala broke from cover, the monster duo taking the lead, and they charged headfirst towards their enemies, lighting, fire, and slashes like wind bombarding their foes. The Marines momentarily quailed beneath the assault but more Fearlings and Nightmares appeared from the darkness, ironically bringing back the men's courage.

The two sides met, clashing beneath the darkening sky, and the island's silence was shattered by the thunder of war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating a day early because I won't be able to update tomorrow.


	46. Battling the Darkness

Needless to say, the plan was in ruins. As Nami vaporized a swarm of Fearlings and Nightmares with lightning, she wondered how things had gone so wrong so quickly. It was true that they did not anticipate the Marines on the island, but general mooks would have been easy to deal with.

An Admiral? Not so much.

Nami had to hold back a scream as a hunk of rock shot down towards her. Her attempts to run out of its path proved to be unnecessary as Zoro split the meteor in half and a few Nightmares with it. Below the carnage, Usopp yelped and darted out from beneath the falling debris. The navigator almost rolled her eyes at his panicked expression, but recalled that the sand the black creatures were made of would cause people to sleep if it struck them. That was not exactly something they wanted to happen in battle.

Having protected his crewmate, Zoro dashed towards Fujitora before Nami could thank him for the save. Their swords clashed, the ringing noise of metal hitting metal joining the other sounds of battle. The navigator was uncertain how close their allies were, but she could hear them fighting from here. On the one hand, it meant their progress had been halted, but on the other, it meant they were still alive.

She cringed slightly as Zoro and the Admiral exchanged loud, forceful blows, turning her attention on the enemies she could handle. A sweep of her Clima-Tact sent a bunch of lower-ranked Marines and Fearlings flying and a lightning bolt downed a majority of them. More creatures rose from the shadows to take their place and Nami backed away, yelping as she ran into someone.

Koala glanced at her before turning back to her own enemies, taking them down with powerful, precise strikes. "I've got your back." She said simply. "Can you keep doing that thing with the lightning? You have good range and you're killing a lot of them."

"Of course." Nami said instantly, trying not to show her nervousness.

The Revolutionary's blue eyes flicked towards Zoro and Fujitora and she briefly grimaced. Her features soon smoothed out. "Do your best. I have a feeling Pitch is trying to stall us rather than kill us so I'd like to get out of here."

Her eyes widened and she stepped forward, arms turning black. Nami did not have time to question her before a familiar smoking shape struck Sanji, sending him sprawling. The cook recovered instantly, moving to retaliate, but Koala got there first, striking Smoker's and forcing him away. The Logia's body reformed and he landed next to his Captain and men.

"Hey, it's the Straw Hats!" One of them said cheerfully before remembering how he was supposed to feel about pirates. "Er, I mean, die pirate scum!"

Despite his threat, neither side moved to attack, only those already engaged in combat still clashing. Zoro and Fujitora still fought— with the Admiral almost hitting his own men as much as the swordsman. Robin targeted lower-ranked Marines and Nightmares, taking them out instantly. Usopp sniped those that she missed, backing away and allowing her to kill the Nightmares and Fearlings that always seemed to hound him.

Nami moved closer to Koala and Sanji, staff raised but unwilling to be the one to break the… stalemate? Truce? Whatever it was, it was fragile, the air between them heavy and charged, and one wrong word or move would be enough to send it all crashing down.

"You know," Sanji spoke suddenly. "I can't decide if I'm disappointed or not." His tone was not challenging in the slightest, just weary. "Don't you know what Pitch has doing? Pitch has been  _murdering_  people— civilians, women, and  _children_ — and yet you're  _siding_  with him?"

The atmosphere grew more oppressive. If Nami were more paranoid, she might have believed a powerful force literally was placing its weight on them all, trying to make them falter. Tashigi looked at the ground, features pained. The men of G-5 shifted uncomfortably. The Vice-Admiral's expression did not change but Nami could sense the air of resignation surrounding him.

"You are in no position to lecture me about morality." He said in a way that made it seem the words sounded hollow even to him. "If Pitch becomes a threat to the peace, he will be dealt with but until then, I must follow my orders."

As much as Nami despised his words, she could not hate the Marine for them. He would bend the rules if he saw fit, but here there was little reason for him not to engage the Straw Hats. From his point of view, they were either trespassing or attempting to rescue a dangerous ally, or were dangerous themselves for allying with two Yonko. For all she knew, the Marines might not even know that Pitch truly was responsible for the atrocities committed. Well, the higher ups likely did, and Smoker at least expected it, but he was loyal to his organization.

Koala exhaled softly. "Okay then. I'll fight Smoker. Nami, try to handle Tashigi because I know Sanji won't fight her. Sanji, you take care of the rest of the men."

The navigator bit back a protest. She supposed she should not be surprised that she did not really want to fight these Marines. They were on opposite sides but they were not bad men, comparatively. She wondered if Pitch had somehow orchestrated things so these Marines of all people would face the Straw Hats. She would not put it past the Nightmare King.

Koala slid one foot back, balancing her weight. "Remember, we just need to get past them so we can keep going."

Her tone was careful, almost gentle, and Nami realized the Revolutionary either knew of the history between the Straw Hats and these Marines or had guessed it.

Some of the knots in Nami's stomach loosened. "Got it."

Koala instantly lunged for Smoker, expression hard and determined. Sanji dove for the men of G-5, similarly intent, and Nami nervously faced her own opponent. It felt weird, going up against a swordswoman when Zoro was usually the one to fight her but he was a bit busy at the moment. Tashigi looked similarly bothered by the arrangement though she held her sword resolutely.

Neither of them moved.

"I… don't suppose you could let us pass?" Nami asked hesitantly.  _We just want to find our Captain_ , she thought but dare not say.

"No." the swordswoman said. She still did not strike.

Battle raged around them, and if not for the discomfort, Nami might have laughed at how ridiculous the two of them probably looked. Everyone else was fighting, yet they were just standing there and staring at each other. It might have been comical except the navigator could feel eyes on her as if invisible presences were judging her and finding her performance lacking.

_I could probably knock her out_ , Nami thought.  _But who knows what the Fearlings would do if they found an unconscious person._  She shuddered mentally at the thought.  _Actually, I'm surprised those monsters aren't turning almost_ _ **everyone**_ _on their side into Fearlings. It's not like the lower-ranked Marines are holding their own against us, and Nightmares can turn anyone they wound so it would be much more effective to just start transforming people._ Her skin crawled.  _Ugh, that's scary. And it's definitely the horrible type of thing Pitch would—_

A Nightmare appeared from the shadows behind Tashigi, leaping for the swordswoman from behind.

" _Look out!_ " Nami shouted.

She blasted the Nightmare before it could strike and it exploded, sending sand flying. Some of it fell onto Tashigi, and Nami's heart sank. To her surprise, the Captain did not instantly collapse. Instead she blinked rapidly, looking bewildered.

The navigator breathed a sigh of relief.  _She didn't get knocked out. Oh thank Oda._

Tashigi's eyes focused on her, growing wide. Then they darkened, filling with utter terror and loathing, and Nami took an instinctive step back.

_Wha—?_

She blinked and Tashigi was in front of her, sword swinging towards her neck. Nami could not hold back a scream of terror as she ducked, the deadly blade missing her head by an inch. The Captain's expression distorted into a look of pure hatred, but the terror lingered in her eyes, which the navigator finally noticed were glassy and unfocused.

_She's hallucinating_ , Nami realized with horror.  _She isn't seeing me._

Tashigi lunged for her, all signs of recognition gone, and Nami was hard pressed to evade her rapid assault. She had to admit that she had forgotten how strong Tashigi was. Compared to Zoro, she did not seem like much, but the Marine was dangerous. The Straw Hat navigator's inability to do more than desperately block and dodge proved that.

Nami was on a constant retreat, practically fleeing as Tashigi pursued her like an animal on the hunt. All other enemies were ignored as the Captain focused only on her, staring at the navigator like she was her most hated enemy. Nami had no idea who or what Tashigi was seeing, but it was obvious the swordswoman wanted them dead.

She threw herself to the side and Tashigi sliced through the tree behind her, sending it falling down onto a group of Nightmares. Nami saw her muscles bunch and instinctively lifted her staff, barely blocking the Captain's next strike.

_I need to put distance between us or I won't stand a chance,_  the navigator thought, heart pounding.

She backed up a step and managed to shove Tashigi away with wind, darting backwards over the rocky ground. Once she was certain she would not hit her allies with her attack she'd knock out the Captain with lightning. The swordswoman was strong. She'd survive it.

Another meteor— courtesy of Fujitora— struck the earth, and Nami staggered, put off balance. She stepped on a rock, ankle twisting, and she stumbled back, weapon flailing uselessly in the air. Tashigi was before her in an instant, eyes wild and filled with terrified rage. In a single, fluid move, the Marine raised her blade, bringing it down.

The navigator had time for a single thought.  _I'm going to—_

"Nami-chwan!" Sanji shouted, shoving her aside.

There was a rush of air and the sound of a blade sinking through flesh. Nami heard Sanji gasp, the pained noise followed by a thud. Her body turned on its own, her weapon whipping out, and she threw Tashigi back with a blast of wind, the gust accompanied by her own, terrified howl.

The Captain slammed into a tree, eyes slipping closed, but her moving chest told the navigator she still lived. The danger having been dealt with, Nami immediately turned to Sanji, and she felt the color drain from her face. Sanji was sprawled on the ground, eyes wide and glazed as blood pooled around him, a frantic Chopper struggling to stem the steady flow of red.

His left arm lay three feet from his body, cleanly severed at the shoulder.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace's entrance into the battle did not go as smoothly as he anticipated. As soon as he passed over the top of the cliff, a blast of black sand nearly knocked him out of the air. The fire-user broke through it with his own burst of flame and landed lightly, taking in the situation.

The first thing he saw was Luffy wrapped up in Pitch's sand. The vile substance was looped around his little brother like ropes, trussing him up from head to foot, and Luffy's red face told Ace that he was holding his breath in an attempt to keep the sand from entering his mouth. The others that the fire-user vaguely noticed were too busy dealing with their own constructs to help Luffy, but Ace barely spared them a thought.

Fire sparked to life at Ace's fingertips, cracking outward like a whip. It easily sliced through the sand holding his brother in the air and Luffy crashed to the ground, rubbing at his mouth with a disgusted expression. His eyes found his savior and he beamed, entire face brightening like a sun appearing through the clouds.

"Ace!"

The Summer Spirit grinned at his brother as he sent a blast of flame at Pitch. The Nightmare King dodged and had to duck to avoid getting hit in the head by Bunny's boomerang. The Spirit of Fear vanished into the shadows, reappearing some distance away. His yellow eyes landed on Ace and he scowled, looking more and more annoyed.

"Would you look at that? The broken one is back. Are you going to appeal to my 'better nature' now?" Pitch sneered. "Oh, wait. You  _can't._ "

Ace flipped him off.

Jack struck the Nightmare King in the chest with lances made of ice, making Pitch stagger.

The Winter Spirit landed beside Ace at the same moment Marco did, the other Guardians and humans grouping together as the Spirit of Fear disappeared into the darkness once more. Ace felt a spark of resigned irritation as they formed a circle around him, acknowledging the need to stay on guard while internally ranting that he could watch out for himself.

_I'm not afraid anymore._

"Good to see you, Firecracker." Bunny greeted him first.

"About time you showed up. You are late to party." North joked with a feral grin.

"Are you okay?" Tooth asked.

Ace nodded but his attention was on his brothers. All three were silent and the fire-user's guilt bubbled up again as he remembered what he had done. He took in his brothers' faces more thoroughly, spotting Sabo's pale skin, Jack's ripped shirt, and forming bruises on Luffy's arms. He knew he was not responsible for the last two imperfections, but the first could very well be because of him.

_I'm so sorry I hurt you._

Sabo met his eyes. "It's not your fault. We should talk later, but know  _I forgive you_ , okay?"

Some of the tension in Ace's body eased and he nodded.

"Sorry I hit you." Luffy blurted.

There was a low thud and a curse. Ace blinked and they were on a different part of the cliff. Next to him, Law panted slightly, swiping a hand over his brow. When he saw their concerned looks he glared at them.

"We're  _in the middle of a battle_. You're doing this  _now_?"

Sabo turned on his heel, blocking spears of sand with fire. "There might not be a later so, yes. But if you're worried, how about you keep fighting?"

" _What do you think I've been doing?!_ " the surgeon snapped, words emphasized by the slash that sent Pitch skidding back.

Sabo threw a plume of flame at the Nightmare King to send him into a greater retreat— and maybe appease the irate Heart Pirate— and Ace held his breath and tensed, preparing to resist the murmurs in the flames, only for no such whispers to come to his ears. His brow furrowed in confusion but he brushed aside his questions, reinforcing the Logia's fiery defense.

"Don't be so pessimistic." North said. "Of course there will be a later."

"Don't count on it." Bunny retorted. "The dagger is gone and our attacks haven't exactly been doing heaps of good."

Ace did not try to correct him about Manny's weapon. Instead he summoned white flames, showing them to Jack. The Winter Spirit's jaw clenched.

North's eyes narrowed. "Non-Spirit friends. Can you keep Pitch busy for a moment?"

The surgeon responded by appearing in front of the Nightmare King and stabbing at him. Pitch dodged his strikes lazily but retreated into the shadows as Garp lunged for him, fist creating a crater where Pitch once stood. Ace's younger brothers returned to the fight as well with a grim Marco, and although many of their attacks hit, none were impairing. In fact, they only seemed to make the Spirit of Fear more furious.

North turned back to the Guardians and Ace. "The white flames are the best chance we have to stop Pitch."

"You don't know that." Jack said instantly. "We can wear him down."

"None of us have been able to inflict any lasting damage, Jack." Tooth said gently. "All we've been able to do is destroy his weapons and sand constructs."

"Well maybe we just need to try harder." The Guardian of Fun argued.

"Even you and Sabo haven't been able to leave a mark on him." Bunny pointed out. "Let's not fool ourselves. Pitch is just playing with us. He hasn't even summoned his goons to swarm us all. At this point, I'm more willing to believe that Firecracker's flames can take him down than all of us combined."

Ace glanced to the side, spotting calm emerald eyes and looked away, smiling slightly. He saw Jack's strained expression and his grin faded away. The fire-user looked at the ground and swallowed, disconcerted by the worry— and fear— in his brother's blue eyes. The Winter Spirit feared for him. That fact was obvious. He either did not want Ace close to the Spirit that had hurt him so much or feared that his flames would not work.

Jack's lack of faith… didn't hurt. His brother might not believe he was capable of saving Kozmotis, but Ace was certain he could. He had freed himself and Marco, was so much stronger than he had been, and knew for a fact that the lost soul was there,  _waiting_  to be freed. Ace had to try— to succeed, not only for Kozmotis and his family and everyone else threatened by Pitch, but for himself too.

Ace stared into Jack's blue, snowflake-like irises, trying to show his brother his conviction.

_I can do this. I can beat Pitch Black. I can free Kozmotis and end the Nightmare King's reign forever. Believe in me._

Jack studied him for a long pause. Then he exhaled slowly, briefly closing his eyes and opened them, meeting Ace's flame-colored orbs. "Okay. Let's do it."

Warmth blossomed in Ace's chest and a smile stretched across his face. It felt weird, like his facial muscles were moving too easily for it to be natural but that might just be because it wasn't forced. Nobody gave him strange looks for grinning like a loon so the fire-user chose not to dwell on it. The Spirits spread out and the humans retreated, joining their ranks.

"What's the plan, yoi?" Marco asked briefly.

"We're going to get Ace close to Pitch so he can blast him." North replied.

"I don't like the plan, yoi." The Phoenix said flatly.

"It's the best we got." Jack said, twirling his staff. "Ace has got this. He freed you, right?"

Marco nodded, something else replacing the worry in his eyes. "Right."

Shadows sprang for them and the group dodged as one, all racing forward. Garp and Luffy punched the sand that attacked them into dust with ease, wearing near-identical grins. They approached Pitch side-by-side and the Nightmare King tensed, readying a black blade. Before they got in range, they split, revealing Marco, who slashed Pitch down the front before flying backwards out of reach. The only sign that the Nightmare King had been hit was the rip in his clothes, but even that mended like he'd never been wounded.

"You're all so infuriatingly  _stupid_." Pitch snarled. "You can't beat me. You can't even injure me. All you're doing is waiting to die! Don't you fools realize it's usel—?"

Bunny's boomerang bounced off Pitch's head and his scowl deepened. The Pooka caught the weapon and smirked. "If it's so useless, how about you kill us? Or is Kozmotis making you hesitate?"

Pitch's expression grew murderous and he sent a barrage of deadly spears at the Guardian of Hope. Bunny dodged them on all fours but Jack was quick to protect his friend, diverting the attacks with a wide sweep of his staff. Ace and Sabo's infernos enveloped Pitch completely but the Nightmare King's possible invincibility showed itself as he emerged without even being singed.

They did not falter. They might not be able to damage Pitch, but they had a way to stop him. They had a way to  _win_.

So they kept pushing, fighting to break through Pitch's attacks, and the Nightmare King bared his teeth, becoming steadily more deranged as all of his own strikes failed to hit, usually thanks to their own agility or Law. The surgeon hung back, keeping the whole battle in sight and teleporting those in danger, with Baby Tooth making sure to watch his back.

Showing the depth of his building anger, Pitch did not pause to taunt or belittle them. Instead he threw a tsunami of darkness at his foes, the wave so bit that it briefly covered the sky. The wall was met by a volley of fire that was not Ace's own, instantly turning to glass.

"Go, Ace!" Sabo shouted.

Their belief in him granted Ace strength. He pushed past the pain in his aching feet and threw himself forward, hands blazing white. Pitch saw him coming and for the first time, unease flashed across his features. It was quickly smothered and the Nightmare King attacked with spears of darkness and sand.

Ace's allies appeared before him, blocking and destroying the sand and darkness before they could get anywhere near the Summer Spirit. Pitch kept attacking, movements growing noticeably less controlled and more frantic, but Ace's friends were there for him, stopping each and every blow with ease. It was then that Ace knew that this time, he was going to make it. He was going to do it. Kozmotis would finally be freed.

Jack froze the next blockade of sand Pitch conjured, blasting it to pieces before the stunned Nightmare King's eyes, and Ace burst through the wreckage like a burning white sun. The Spirit of Fear fell back a step but it was too late for him to flee.

Ace's flaming hands connected with Pitch's chest.

It hurt.

It hurt  _so much_.

The moment Ace's flames made contact he was sucked into the darkness, the forcefulness of the transfer enough to take his breath away like a punch to the throat. His vision went completely black, not an ounce of light to be seen, and while he hesitated, searching for his goal, the darkness  _lunged_.

It was upon him in an instant, as eager to destroy as a rabid wolf. It wrapped around his body, trapping him like a fly caught in a spider's web, and the pure massiveness of the fears— Fearlings?— inside Pitch stunned Ace into inaction.

Compared to this fear, Marco's chains were little more than dandelion fluffs tickling his skin. The darkness tore through Ace's body hungrily, stabbing through his flesh and devouring his insides, ripping him open to show them to the world. It forced its way through his body like a thousand spike-covered snakes, cruel and uncaring, and he could not brush away the terror he felt as he experienced the painful familiarity of its malignant chill.

The fire-user tried to scream but his enemy drove spikes through his lips, down his throat, wrapping more tendrils around his head and  _squeezing_. His eyelids did nothing to protect his eyes from the barbs, and although he should be unable to see, images flashed before him.

_He saw his daughter die again and again._

_He saw worlds swallowed up by darkness until nothing but emptiness and fear remained._

_People walked through him. He saw them but none saw him back. None believed in him. None cared about him. Not a single person. Sadness became bitterness. Bitterness became anger. The anger became hatred, which grew and grew and grew until—_

_He saw his own hands, covered with blood, and soon realized that he was standing in a pool of red that stretched out further than the eye could see._

_He blinked and the piles of corpses surrounded him, staring at him with empty eyes that told him he would never be forgiven for what he had done._

_His victims screamed defiantly. His victims begged for mercy that never came. His victims were killed ruthlessly and without a single speck of empathy. Men, women, and children fell before him or were given a fate worse than death._

_Eventually he stopped caring, stopped questioning himself, stopped hesitating, and it was then he knew their claims were right._

_He was a monster._

_He would always be a monster._

_**So be it.** _

It was too much. There was too much malignant fear and sadism for Ace to even comprehend. He could feel his mind straining, unable to handle the horrors that he witnessed, and the darkness elatedly clung to his weakness, forcing its way deeper. It was worse than the sand could ever hope to be, invasive and painful and befouling. It saw every part of him and took it for himself, unable to corrupt him but doing everything in its power to defile his body and mind.

Ace was not sure if the tight feeling in his throat was his attempt to cry or the darkness shoving its way down his esophagus. He could not tell if his eyes burned because of unshod tears or the spikes pressing into them. His 'vision' wavered and for a second he saw his own body, impaled with more sword-like spears than he could count and trussed up with said spikes through his limbs instead of being tied.

The Summer Spirit had enough awareness to thank Pitch for not restraining him like that in reality, but rational thought soon fled him as more images stabbed their way into his mind. And yet to call them, 'images' was incorrect. He did not merely see. He experienced them,  _lived_  them.

He was a street urchin, starving and thin, fearful that he would not see another sunrise. He was a civilian, injured and half-deaf, running desperately as war raged around him. He was a child, lost in the woods, unable to find his way home. He was a soldier, fighting hopelessly for a place he knew was doomed to die. He was a parent, screaming futilely as his child was struck by a car. He was a teen, unable to look his abuser in the eye as he approached.

It was then that Ace knew he was in Hell.

The darkness was all too happy to continue showing him the fears and cruelty of humanity. Ace soon found himself going numb, powerless to handle it all, but the darkness did not let him escape. It was in control. It  _owned_ him. He was  _its_ to use and destroy as it pleased.

It stabbed into his brain and slid around his heart, every movement sickening and wrong, and the fire-user wondered if there was anything left inside him other than its chilling presence. It knew it was breaking him—  _ **Finally.**_ — and so it joyfully ground his mind to dust, reveling in its victory.

_He tried to reach out to other Spirits but could not change his nature, his foolish hopes dashed as he was swiftly rejected for wanting the world to see him, when in truth getting a single friend was his greatest dream._

_His own forces turned against him and dragged him back into the darkness he had climbed from, and agonized memories overwhelmed him he wondered if he was about to be devoured again._

_His anger and lust for power returned tenfold and he loathed it as much as he accepted it, choosing cruelty and manipulation as his forms of fun because he had nothing else left but fear and hatred._

_He saw the foolish boy trying to manipulate him as clearly as the sun on a cloudless day and punished him for it, because the alternative was hoping the child meant what he said. He knew that hope would be dashed— feared that outcome— so instead he turned to rage and made the boy suffer._

_The boy made him suffer in return, spouting lies and idiotic notions that made Pitch question himself. It was all a trick. He knew that. But a part of him wondered if he might just be telling the truth, and hurt as a result. The boy was a fool. He was beyond redemption, just like he knew and feared. After all, even his brightest light had abandoned him._

_He could not forget the day his daughter coldly told him that he was not her father, that there was no good left in him, that he should have tried harder to fight and return to her, that it was his fault that he was like this, that she_ _**did not believe in him—** _

_I believe in you._

The darkness clamped down on Ace's mind, trying to stifle the thought with torture and pain, but the Summer Spirit would not be silenced. Through the agony of the darkness's torments, he clung to the reason why he was here. The darkness had almost succeeded in making him forget but its plan had backfired. He was not here to beat the fear that powered the Nightmare King. He was here to free Kozmotis.

It was true that action may result in the Spirit of Fear's end, but banishing the Fearlings was not Ace's initial goal. He was here to free a man from his chains, to release him from the evil that kept him captive for so long.

The pain did not lessen, nor did the intensity of the darkness, but somehow, Ace was free. His mind was his own. His  _will_  was his own. With that will, he held the fear and darkness back, standing firm and refusing to let it progress further. Instead he pushed against it, one step at a time, searching the seemingly endless sea of darkness for the good buried inside. And he knew for certain that there was good somewhere. Pitch's fears showed that.

The Nightmare King was vicious, sadistic, selfish, manipulative, and cold, but he also wished for companionship and acceptance. Those desires were not from the Fearlings. They were all from Kozmotis. The man had never been fully devoured by the Fearlings. He had never fully lost. He had always been there, warped and twisted but still retaining bits of himself inside Pitch Black.

It was time he for him to be freed.

The tiny speck of light was like a beacon in the darkness, fragile but strong as it fought to exist. It was covered in scars and cracks where it had broken, but it was still there and that proved it had survived. As Ace approached, it flickered, splitting apart, but it quickly reformed, showing more cracks than before. It faltered again, falling apart like crumbling stone, but Ace gently caught the pieces and lifted them back towards the core, watching them trickle back together like the light had its own gravitational pull.

The darkness lashed out, trying to impale the light, but Ace smacked it away. The Fearlings growled, draping over the light as menacing spikes and clinging to it possessively. The Summer Spirit was unimpressed and grabbed them, yanking a few tendrils away. They bit into his hands but their petty attacks were nothing compared to their earlier show of force. Like anything driven by fear, they faltered when faced with a resilient opponent, their façade of supremacy melting away to reveal the cowardliness of their core.

Ace could not remove all of the tendrils— there were too many small strands sunken into the light of Kozmotis' soul— but maybe he did not have to. Fear did not have to be evil. If used correctly, it could be good. It could guard against recklessness, teach about caution, and give people a sense of self-preservation and even compassion. Kozmotis and Pitch were too combined— and maybe too similar— to fully separate, but maybe without the Fearlings they'd be able to become what they were meant to be. Free.

Ace touched the little ball of light and white flames roared to life. Immediately, everything vanished as the darkness was overcome by a calming glow.

He snapped back into his body in time to hear Pitch  _shriek_.

The sound was so piercing and demonic that more than one person cringed, covering their ears. The Nightmare King continued to scream and writhe, hands pressed to his chest and a hand landed on Ace's arm. The Summer Spirit did not try to protest as Jack dragged him away from the thrashing Spirit of Fear. The others stood ready, prepared for an attack, but all watched the painful spectacle with varying expressions. Some were bored, others hopeful, others ready for a monster to be unleashed.

Ace observed with bated breath, brushing off Jack's hand but refraining from rising. His body still ached from the darkness' attack, leaving him tired and slightly winded, but the damage had luckily only been in his mind. His skin crawled as he recalled the sensation of the fear forcing its way into his flesh though he managed to shove the memories away, shifting his weight so he was in a more comfortable position.

Immediately Pitch's gaze snapped to him and crazed, agonized eyes met Ace's. Comprehension was quick to sink its icy claws into his heart.

_It **didn't work**._

In an instant, Pitch's screams morphed into insane laughter. There was no time to pass on a warning, and when the others finally realized what had happened, it was too late. A blast of black sand sent all those who were standing to the ground, powers fading and weapons flying from hands.

Pitch kept laughing, the sound nauseatingly unhinged, and the ground itself shuddered. The shadows shivered and writhed in response, wriggling like distorted masses of nerves and a shiver went up Ace's spine.

_It was all for nothing. Everything I did to help Kozmotis, everything I said to convince the others I could do this, everything I went through to free him… It was all for_ _**nothing** _ _._

A hollow feeling yawned in Ace's gut and he closed his eyes in grief, the gravity of his incompetence hurting worse than what even the darkness was capable of. His vision grew misty but he did not let the tears fall.

_I'm sorry I wasted everyone's time. I'm sorry I couldn't free you, Kozmotis. I'm so sorry._   _I let you all down._

_I couldn't do it. I failed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Who saw that coming? :)


	47. Sacrifice

It was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. Any other scenario was impossible. Nami must have gotten hit with some of the black sand and was currently trapped in visions of her greatest fears. This could not be real. Sanji could not be sans an arm, bleeding out in front of her.

Nami was unable to tell if the roaring in her ears was the sounds of the battle or noise that only existed in her head. She stared at the forest floor, at the splatters of crimson that stood out starkly even in the near-darkness, unable to look away. A pained gasp made her eyes move and she found a new horror to concentrate on.

Sanji's skin was ashen, the last remnants of color draining from his face as Chopper fought to stem the bleeding from his shoulder. His breathing was shallow and harsh but did not have a horrifying gurgle Nami associated with terrible injuries. He should not have an injured throat though. It would not make sense if he did. He had not gotten slashed in the chest. He had just lost an arm.

He had just  _lost an arm._

Usopp's hysterical whimper pulled Nami from the numb fog she was sinking into. The sniper was as frozen as she, ignorant to the ongoing fight around him as he stared at Sanji with blank eyes.

"This isn't real." He whispered, voicing Nami's thoughts. "We're in a nightmare. It's not real."

Robin killed the Nightmare that tried to jump him from behind. Her face was calm but her eyes were dark with distress. Her arms spawned on Nightmares, Fearlings, and Marines alike, slaying them indiscriminately but as soon as a single foe fell, more emerged from the fog and darkness. Nami was beginning to wonder if there was even an end to their ranks. She flinched when Chopper grabbed her arm.

"Nami, I need your help." The doctor pulled on her insistently.

The navigator stared at him uncomprehendingly. She recoiled as a rock slammed into the earth a few feet to her left and her eyes were dragged unwittingly towards Fujitora. Zoro was still fighting the Admiral, a grim-faced Koala at his side. Nami did not know how the Revolutionary convinced the proud swordsman to let her help but his acceptance proved their situation was dire.

There was no sign or Smoker or Tashigi, or any of the members of G-5 for that matter. Nami wondered if they had taken their Captain to get medical attention. Her stomach cramped, twisting into knots and she put a hand to her mouth.

"Nami, please. I need you to hold this." Chopper's voice was high and desperate, the shakiness of his voice breaking through her shock.

The navigator obediently let the doctor guide her hands, pressing firmly against the cloth he had placed over Sanji's wound. She heard Chopper digging through his back, muttering lowly, but could not understand his words. The doctor quickly came back and ordered her to move. She pulled her arms back far out of the way, giving Chopper room. The doctor immediately got to work but Nami did not see what he was doing.

Crimson covered her hands. Blood. Sanji's blood. Nami bit her lip, struggling not to cry.

Footsteps raced towards them, loud and crunching on the forest floor, and she jolted to her feet, gripping her Clima-Tact with slippery hands and standing between the ones that approached and her fallen crewmate. She wasn't strong. Not at all. But she had to try to protect them. She had to try to fight. After her mistake it was the best she could do—

White emerged from the fog and Nami screamed, throwing lighting at them. The person dodged, tripping slightly as they staggered forward, and the navigator recognized Thatch, pale and angry with his hair falling messily over his face. The Whitebeard Commander took in the situation with a glance and immediately went to Chopper.

"Bay, get over here! The rest of you, attack!"

More pirates burst from the foliage, many bloody, some shaking with fury, but all ready to fight. Letting loose war cries, they fell upon the Marines and Pitch's minions. Bay ran to Sanji's side, kneeling beside him and Chopper. The doctor had a smear of blood on her face from a cut on her cheek. The reindeer rapidly informed his fellow doctor about what had happened but Nami tuned it out, staring blankly at Thatch.

"How…?" she whispered.

"We've been getting the search parties back together and making these bastards fight us in the open." Thatch explained as he bisected a Nightmare. "They caught us by surprise but a majority of us gathered our wits and got out mostly unscathed. Sorry it took so long to locate you. Oyaji and Shanks are trying to draw out the Marines' big guns right now. There's still no sign of Marco or the others though."

Nami watched the pirates push the Nightmares and Fearlings back, picking off many of the hidden Marines as well. The tide had not quite turned but the Straw Hats were no longer struggling as much. Thatch stabbed a Fearling in the eye and slashed a Marine across the chest. The soldier fell with a gurgle.

"See, it's their numbers that are the problem." He said, kind face unusually harsh. "These bastards just keep coming!"

_That's the point,_  Nami thought.  _They intend to wear us down or keep us from reaching Luffy and Ace. They hide in the shadows, intending to pick us off one by one while the people we came to save are all killed._

Nami looked back at Sanji, who was pale but still breathing. His eyes opened a slit, filled with pain, and he smiled in what was likely meant to be a reassuring smirk. All the navigator saw was a pained grimace.

_This shouldn't have happened._

She stood up, Clima-Tact grasped rigidly in one hand, and stared up at the black shadows soaring through the fog. The Nightmares and Fearlings far outnumbered the pirates, and as name watched one man was horrifically transformed into one of them. That could have been Usopp, or Robin, or any of her crewmates. That could have been Tashigi, who was too good of a person to become Pitch's slave. That could have been Sanji or any of the other injured scattered on the ground. Something in Nami's blood boiled and she raised her staff.

"Leave us  _ALONE!_ " Nami screamed.

The lightning ripped through the fog, momentarily clearing it, and the Fearlings and Nightmares burned to ashes. Some Marines were struck too, dead before they hit the floor but Nami did not give them a second thought as she blasted those that remained away from her crewmates, screaming all the while. She might have struck Fujitora but was not sure, the slight hesitation in the Admiral's movements likely having nothing to do with her.

Eventually her rage ran out and she collapsed to her knees, tears pricking at her eyes as the fog and the enemy's ranks reformed. It was like she had not done anything, like her part in this fight did not matter. Even with the Fourth Division's help, they were at a stalemate, unable to win, unwilling to lose, just waiting for the tables to turn or for the enemy to overwhelm them.

Then the Nightmares and Fearlings vanished into the shadows. One minute they were surfacing or attacking, the next they were gone, disappearing into the darkness.

The humans hesitated for a minute, waiting for them to reemerge, but when none did, the pirates instantly rallied and fell upon their enemies with renewed vigor. The weaker Marines crumpled before them like grass to a scythe and they were forced into a retreat, no longer able to rely on Pitch's minions for support. A call for a retreat was sounded and the Marines fled, running from the pirates.

Despite their supposed triumph, Nami did not feel victorious. Instead she observed the shadows, uneasiness curling in her chest. Something was not right.

"Where did the Nightmares and Fearlings go?" she whispered.

Thatch gave a helpless shrug.

The ground below them trembled.

ROTGOPROTGOP

There was no light left. The clifftop was gone, covered in darkness with even the fog lost in a false night. Shadows and sand swirled around them like a cyclone, blocking out the last remnants of illumination. The only thing that provided visibility in the darkness was Sabo's flaming hands, the fire tiny and inconsequential when compared to the malignant darkness.

A chill fell over Ace as he stared at the wall that contained them, gooseflesh forming on his skin as ice sank into his bones. A terrible emptiness spawned in his heart and he broke his gaze away from the proof of his failure, looking down at his wrists.

Pitch continued to laugh, seemingly ignorant to the darkness he menaced his enemies with. The sound was distorted and inhuman, rising and falling in volume at uneven intervals. Eventually it trailed off into what could only be identified as psychotic giggles, and an unhinged smile stretched across the Nightmare King's face.

"See?  _SEE?_  You thought you could save  _me_?" Ace's skin crawled when Pitch spoke, his voice as disturbed and vicious as his laugh. "You thought you could  _free me?_ " The Nightmare King let loose a sadistic cackle. "Fool! Fear is unstoppable. Fear is eternal.  _I. Am. FEAR!_  Why do you never  _ **LEARN?!**_ "

Fearlings and Nightmares emerged from the swarm of darkness. They descended on the Spirits and humans like an army of demons, screaming and shrieking in voices that sounded just like humans. Sabo blasted a group into dust. Law teleported them so they would strike each other instead of their foes. Luffy expanded his Haki-covered fist and punched a hole through their ranks.

It was filled almost immediately like their numbers had never been diminished. The monsters closed in and the group crowded together— around Ace— the close-range fighters joining the fray. North cut four Nightmares in half. Tooth took out five. Bunny and Marco struck down ten Fearlings each while Garp's powerful blow momentarily revealed the foggy world outside.

The hole closed up, blotting out the stream of faint light once more. Three creatures took the place of every one they slayed, pressing closer and closer like a wall made of monsters. Just as quickly as they rallied, the Spirits and their allies were forced back.

A tendril of sand as thick as a tree trunk slammed into Bunny. The Pooka crumpled to the ground, green eyes fluttering shut. North leapt to his fellow Guardian's defense, slashing Nightmares to pieces by the dozens, but was overwhelmed almost instantly. Only a last-minute swap courtesy of Law saved them. Ace felt them appear next to him as Jack, Luffy, and Sabo ran towards the Nightmare King.

Pitch did not stop giggling as their attacks flew at him. For a moment, Ace thought the Nightmare King was not going to bother to defend himself. Then his hand flicked and the three brothers were thrown backwards by weaving sand, hitting the ground hard enough to leave cracks.

They vanished but before Ace's foggy mind could panic they reappeared, winded but mostly unharmed. The others reformed their circle and a strained heaviness crept into the air that made ice-water go up the fire-user's spine. He knew what was happening. Confidence was becoming unease. None of them were afraid yet, but their belief that they would win had been shaken. Not all of them, of course, but Ace could see the grimness in North and Marco's expressions.

_They know we can't win. We don't have a way to win. Because I failed._

The grey haze was creeping back, urging Ace to retreat from the realization that wanted to smother him. He found that he could not move. It was like his mind was outside his body again, watching the fight play out like he was not really there. He committed to not letting himself fall further than that, struggling to stay coherent as his every instinct wished to escape the reality he was facing.

"What do we do n—?"

Tooth's question cut off as Pitch jerked forward like a man possessed, movements rapid and unsettling as a scythe materialized in his hand. More sickles on chains appeared around him and they swung at the Guardians and their allies. Ace experienced a faint feeling of vertigo as Law moved them all out of the way, only for the surgeon to have to save them again as the weapons pursued them. It was as if they had a mind of their own, arcing and stabbing through the air like they were attracted to their enemies' blood.

Ace vaguely noticed that Law was steadily growing paler, sweat beading on his brow, and the man finally faltered in time for a sickle to come at his face. It was diverted by Marco's flaming leg and the Phoenix turned to the Heart Pirate, eyes narrowed.

"That's enough, yoi. You can't keep doing that."

Law's lips pressed together and his lack of protest showed he agreed, as much as he wished to deny it. The scythes did not allow for any more conversation, swiping down threateningly, and Pitch's minions and the Nightmare King himself joined the fray, still grinning that unhinged smile.

Jack froze a wave of Fearlings, shattering them to pieces. Sabo burned another group, managing to take a few of Pitch's weapons with them. North, Marco, and Law cut the chains but their actions did nothing to hinder the sickles, which flew even more freely then before. Luffy angrily went for the Nightmare King again but was thrown back once more, barely avoiding being decapitated.

Ace remained paralyzed. He could only watch as a Fearling leapt from the shadows, sending Sabo crashing to the ground. Jack tore the monster off of the Revolutionary with a blast of ice. He immediately had to sweep his staff in a wide arc as a wave of darkness shot towards them. The Winter Spirit blocked the stream but while most of it crumbled, some sand smashed through, descending upon him and his allies.

Ace felt someone grab him and they broke apart, scattering as they desperately avoided the sand raining down upon them. The fire-user slowly acknowledged that the large palm that grabbed him had to be Garp's but he could not seem to control his muscles to look at the man, still staring ahead blankly.

Law's startled cry tore through the air like shards of glass. The surgeon fell, foot yanked forward, and his head hit the ground with an audible  _crack_. The Heart Pirate slid along the stone, movements lethargic and slow and before Ace could comprehend what was happening, Law was before Pitch. Silent and cold, the Nightmare King raised his scythe, bringing it down.

The weapon sank into the dirt next to the surgeon's arm, Luffy just barely having managed to pull Law out of the way. The Straw Hat gave the Heart Pirate another furious tug and heaved him out of the black sand's grasp and back to the group. Instantly, another shout pierced the air, this time from Sabo.

The Revolutionary was on the ground, burning and kicking as black sand latched onto his clothes, wrapping around him like living ropes. Sabo successfully burned and broke free of the substance but more immediately snapped onto him, replacing itself so he could not rise. Ace's body jerked but he could not make himself rise to go help his brother.

_Everything I've done has made things worse._ He struggled to keep his head above the haze.  _I have to stay focused. I have to do something._

Ace stayed immobile and numb. He did not even notice when Garp released him. The Marine managed to punch through the sand separating him from his blond-haired grandson, angrily tearing off the sand that menaced him. The Logia stumbled to his feet, skin pale. The Summer Spirit distantly wondered why Pitch had not simply stabbed Sabo with the sand instead of simply restraining him but those thoughts were quickly discarded as a Fearling spawned in Garp's face.

Taken by surprise, Garp fell backwards a step, away from the creature… and hit the barrier of black sand. He grunted, yanking his bare hand away from the substance like it had burned him. Then his eyes slipped closed and he slumped, asleep in an instant. A Fearling immediately dove at the Marine, claws outstretched.

"Gramps!" Sabo cried, running forward and smashing his flaming fist through the Fearling.

The Revolutionary wasted no time in dragging Garp back to relative safety, laying him next to Ace. The fire-user stared at his grandfather, taking in his twitching, pained expression. None of the sand had gotten into his blood— he'd be a Fearling by now if it had— but that did not stop cold snakes from coiling themselves around Ace's heart.

_This is my fault._

The thought came easily, no matter how much Ace fought against it, and once it formed he knew it was right. He wanted to deny it, tried to convince himself it was wrong because that's what his family would say if they knew, but he could not counter the fact that he had done something wrong and failed. The flames should have worked. He was certain they had. And yet here they were, facing down a crazed and powerful Nightmare King who only had not succeeded in killing them by now because of dumb luck.

Ace heard the menacing whizzing of the sickles and watched unfeelingly as they shot towards him. The Wind knocked a few aside, Luffy, Marco, and Tooth redirected a few others, and Sabo burned and shattered some more, but there were an indecipherable amount left to take their place. Bunny was knocked out. Garp too. They were all going to be taken out one by one. How long would it be before one of them died?

A small part of Ace screamed that he should help to stop that from happening, but the last time he tried to play hero he had messed up miserably. With his luck, trying to fight would only result in someone getting killed because of him. Besides, what was the point of fighting an immortal, invincible enemy they could not hope to stop?

Pitch sprang from among the throng of sand and weapons, eyes unfocused and smile still crazed. He swung at them all, no target in mind, laughing all the while as he tried to take them all out. Tooth ran with Bunny. Sabo and Luffy moved Garp. They all retreated, scattering like leaves in gale-force winds.

Ace closed his eyes and bowed his head, not bothering to dodge.

Jack grabbed him, pulling him out of harm's way, the scythe whizzing by close enough to nearly cut Ace's hair. The Winter Spirit blasted the Nightmare King with ice but Pitch hardly seemed to notice, teeth bared in a grin as his sand shifted into a cable-like shape and struck. The shadow hit Jack directly in the chest, sending them both flying.

Ace heard Luffy scream the two Spirits' names. He felt Jack pull at his body, turning them both slightly, and the Guardian was the one to slam into the ground. His brother and cringed as they both slid along the ground, with the Winter Spirit taking a majority of the force. They stopped before they could hit the wall of sand and darkness and Jack sat up. The Winter Spirit stumbled to his feet, wincing and massaging his chest. His shirt was torn and a purplish bruise was already darkening his skin.

"I'm fine." Jack panted then turned to Ace, grabbing his shoulders. "Don't  _ever_  do that again!" He snapped. "You are not allowed to give up. We still have a chance to beat him. So you are going to keep fighting,  _do you hear me?!_ "

Ace stared at him hollowly, barely blinking when Sabo was thrown backwards by a wave of sand. Marco caught the Revolutionary before he could strike the barrier that could prove to be deadly.

The Winter Spirit cursed softly. "It's not your fault. You did your best. You didn't do anything wrong. Some people just  _can't_  be saved." He hesitated, blue eyes clouding. "I'm sorry, Ace."

Tooth's sharp inhale made Ace look up and he met yellow eyes. Something in Pitch's visage changed, his expression hardening. Gone was the unhinged giggling. Gone were the uncontrolled, random movements. The Nightmare King was focused, serious, as if he'd fallen from the high of his victory and had discovered his goal.

Ace blinked. When his eyes opened, Pitch stood directly in front of him.

Ace was too stunned to feel fear as the Nightmare King grabbed him by the wrists, dragging him into the darkness faster than anyone could try to stop him. Unlike the sand-filled battleground, there was no light here, and yet the fire-user could see Pitch perfectly.

To his surprise they did not emerge so Pitch could slaughter him in front of his family. Instead they stayed in the darkness. Ace… wasn't afraid. In fact, the darkness was almost calming when compared to the terrifying chaos of the fight. He must still be in shock, he supposed.

Pitch's grip on Ace's arms tightened to a painful degree, causing blood to leak from his reopened wounds. The fire-user tried not to cringe, staying still and silent. The Spirit of Fear's worryingly neutral expression was back and Ace did not want to set him off.

" **Stop.** " The Nightmare King spat, guttural voice making Ace flinch. "Stay. Won't let— NO!"

One hand jerked up and wrapped around Ace's throat, the other keeping a firm grasp on his wrist. The Summer Spirit's heartbeat quickened but he stayed lax in Pitch's hold. Then the Nightmare King released him without giving him a single squeeze of warning, his nails scraping the fire-user's skin as he ripped his hand away.

"Won't—" Pitch hissed.

He let go of Ace's arm, pulling at his own hair. The Summer Spirit floundered in the darkness, unable to find purchase or make sense of which way was up. Pitch watched him with a near-fascinated expression, observing distantly as Ace struggled. Then the Nightmare King caught him, setting him upright like a parent teaching his young child to walk. His hands lingered on the fire-user's shoulders, almost feeling warm.

"You cared." Pitch said suddenly, tone frighteningly gentle. "You cared. You cared you cared you care."

Ace kept every muscle locked as the Nightmare King brushed his hand through his hair, fingers twitching as they neared his throat. He tried not to dwell on the emotion in Pitch's voice, an emotion that sounded far too much like possessiveness to be anything good. It would have reminded him of Oyaji at his most protective except the tone was too dark and too dangerous to completely come from a desire to defend from harm. The Spirit of Fear began to chuckle again, both hands cupping Ace's cheeks.

"You cared. That's why I can't hate you even though he wants me to. You're so young and ignorant. You just don't realize what you've  _done_. What  _I've_ done…"

His smile cracked and it was like Ace was looking in a mirror. Pure agony shone in Pitch's eyes, showing years of guilt and pain that the fire-user could barely comprehend. Although he might not be able to understand it, he could emphasize with it. The Nightmare King was hurting. A horrific suspicion formed in Ace's mind but he pushed it away, not daring to let himself think about it.

Pitch's jaw clenched, as did his fingers. He let go when Ace winced but his eyes grew hard. "Shut up." He hissed. "It's not like that. I'm just keeping him safe."

The suspicion came back and some of Ace's alarm must have shown on his face, for Pitch retreated slightly, smiling brokenly.

"Don't blame yourself, child. We're just too alike, I think. Him and I, not you." He said, eyes unfocused. "I thought it all would go away when I woke but I was there. Some part of me did all those terrible things. The memories are mine and his. I can't forget. I can't be who I once was. Freedom means nothing when you are bound by your past."

A shudder went through him and the coldness returned to his gaze. "I still hate them. They never gave me a chance. I know it was him that they fought, but it was also me they rejected and I can't forgive them for that. I'm—" His harsh glare faltered, growing pained. "—I'm  _still_  a monster."

He vanished, leaving Ace alone. The fire-user flailed aimlessly, unable to tell up from down but any panic he might have felt was smothered by his despair. He curled up into a ball, feeling as if he were sinking into the cold ocean, yet somehow was able to breathe. The empty chill was growing but Ace knew the darkness was not to blame. It did not need to do anything to make him hopeless.

_Somehow, I made everything worse. Good job, Ace._

If his suspicions were true, he had managed to botch up freeing Kozmotis worse than he thought. He indeed freed the hero… but could not free him from his past as Pitch Black. Kozmotis had always been in Pitch, but he had also  _been_ Pitch. Ace had realized this himself when he had seen his chains of fear.

And so, instead of freeing the man Kozmotis Pitchiner had once been, Ace had released a broken, guilt-ridden soul who was listening to his demons and doing the only thing that seemed to work these past thousands of years: hurt others before they could hurt him.

_What have I done?_

He continued to drift endlessly, unaware of the passage of time. He did not attempt to break out of the darkness. It did not matter if he escaped. He had failed. The Nightmare King would win. His friends…

_I can't let them die._

Ace closed his eyes even though there was nothing to see in the void. His hand brushed his pocket and he felt… hollow. There was no fear, no triumph, not even any regret. Only a weary acceptance.

_I should have known I'd have to use it the moment I saw it._

The corners of his lips lifted. The smile felt as empty as him. This certainly was not the mood he expected to be in at that moment. A long time ago, he would have broken free and lunged forward with a determined grin on his face, glad to sacrifice his life so others could live. Now, there was little triumph or victory felt. Instead Ace was just tired and a little regretful.

There would be no rest for him in the dagger and no peace. He knew better than to think he would find tranquility in Pitch's heart. The thought of being trapped inside that terrible darkness made his skin crawl but he did not allow himself to feel more fear. He had already failed to save Kozmotis. He had no intention of failing to save his family.

Jack was right. There was still a chance they could defeat Pitch Black. There was still a way.

Ace just hoped they would forgive him one day.

The Summer Spirit remembered their belief in him. He remembered the joy he felt when he defeated the black sand. He remembered being out at sea, flying with Jack, having grand adventures with the Whitebeard Pirates, and equally grand 'adventures' with Luffy and Sabo. A tiny spark of warmth ignited in his chest and he nurtured it into a flame, holding it briefly in his heart. Then he let it free.

The fire caught the darkness alight and it screamed, breaking down and fleeing before the inferno. Ace was instantly blinded by natural light as he fell through the air, landing hard a few feet below where he had emerged. He looked up and spotted the dark cyclone through the fog. The Summer Spirit was just outside of the writhing mass that trapped his family and friends.

Ace walked towards it resolutely and lit his hand, touching it. His fire washed over the sand in an instant, turning it to black glass, and a lightning bolt broke a hole in its side for him to pass through.

When he emerged, his friends were on the ground, shadows retreating from them, and Ace realized Pitch must have been startled by his attack. The thought made the fire-user want to smile but he could not quite do it. Instead he took in the area, noting that Garp was still unconscious but Bunny was awake. Everyone else appeared to be fine, though the Fearlings still swarmed them like bees.

Ace's eyes narrowed and he threw his hand out, his fire circling his friends as it incinerated his enemies in an instant. Only Pitch survived the onslaught, barely singed. The Summer Spirit was unsurprised. He calmly went to his brothers, who had gotten to their feet.

"That was so cool, Ace!" Luffy crowed, stars in his eyes.

"Nice timing." Jack told him even as he glared at Pitch.

"Thank Manny you're okay." Sabo breathed.

Ace looked at them, unable to tear his gaze away. Before they could comment the Guardians and Marco rushed the now-alone Nightmare King, who retaliated with whip-like constructs of sand. Ace grabbed Jack and Law's hands before they could rejoin the fray. Sabo and Luffy noticed and lingered back, all four adopting confused expressions.

"What is it? Do you have a plan?" Sabo asked urgently.

Ace nodded slowly and his brothers gathered closer, with Law keeping an eye out for any attacks from Pitch.

"Well? Oh, right. Anyone know a way Ace can share his idea?" Luffy asked, belatedly remembering Ace's muteness.

His scatterbrained reaction made Ace's lips quirk upward. Luffy truly was a bit of an idiot, but the fire-user loved him for that, just like he loved Sabo for his steadfast support and determination, and Jack for his protectiveness and ability to make it sunny on even the darkest days. There was so much Ace wished he could say to them. He could not, so he pulled them into his arms, feeling their warmth and listening to their hearts beating.

Jack gave an awkward chuckle. "Um. Thanks, but kinda not the time, Ace."

The fire-user ignored him, reluctantly releasing them. He stepped back, meeting their confused eyes, taking in every detail he could. Luffy's precious straw hat and the way his forehead crinkled when he was confused. Sabo's tousled blond hair and his almost bashful grin. Jack's pale, otherworldly features and the way his eyes sparkled with mischievousness, even now. Ace took it in, all of it, trying to paint a perfect memory in his mind. He did not want to forget.

Jack tensed. "What are you…?"

Ace took the dagger out of his pocket and showed it to Law. The surgeon's grey eyes went round, then hardened.

Jack gasped, stepping forward. "Don't—"

He vanished. Sabo and Luffy vanished. The Guardians vanished. Law, Baby Tooth, Marco, and Garp too. There was no time for goodbyes. No time for last words. Ace could only mentally thank Law for understanding.

Then he turned to Pitch. Or maybe not just Pitch. He could be facing the Nightmare King, or the broken remnants of a once-good man. The Spirit of Fear stared back at him, expression almost peaceful. Ace knew it was a lie because occasionally the Nightmare King's face would twitch, a hint of rage and fear flashing across his features. But were those emotions from the Fearlings inside or Kozmotis himself? Or both?

"I won't let you do this." The Nightmare King whispered.

Ace recoiled at the vehement resolve in his voice. He exhaled harshly, keeping his eyes locked with Pitch's and strengthened his faith in his own decision. He would stop Pitch or Kozmotis or whoever it was he faced. He would save his family. He would ensure everyone's freedom… at the cost of his own.

_I'm going to be stuck in that for a very long time, maybe forever. But if they survive, it'll be worth it. It has to be worth it. Even if there's nothing left of me by the time we're freed._

He flew at the Nightmare King, propelled forward by roaring flames.

_It's time for both of us to sleep._

ROTGOPROTGOP

"— do it!"

Jack felt cool ocean air on his face. His stomach dropped and he stepped forward, only for Marco to tackle him from behind, sending his staff sliding across the wooden deck below. The Winter Spirit went berserk, his body reacting before his mind could comprehend what had happened.

They were on the Moby Dick. As far as he could tell, all of the pirates were, most blinking in confusion as they took in their new surroundings. Somehow, Law had cleared out the island, the strain he put himself under by performing such a feat showing in the bluish tinge of his skin. Jack did not care, his anger and desperation bursting out as Luffy too realized what had happened and began thrashing in North's hold.

"Bring us back." He whispered. "BRING US BACK!"

The repeated demand was uttered in a shout, so loud that many nearby pirates flinched. Marco gave a pained grunt as ice covered his hands but he refused to release the Winter Spirit but he was not the one who needed to act. He was not the one to blame.

Law blinked lethargically at Jack as if he could barely register that he was being spoken to. Then his grey eyes slipped closed and he slumped, instantly unconscious. Sabo gave a howl but was stopped from throwing himself into the air by Jozu, whose diamond form remained unaffected by his flames.

"Let me go." He gasped, voice shaking audibly. "We have to go back. Ace is going to— He's going to— Let us go back!  _Please!_ "

They ignored his pleas. One of the gathered pirates made a small, grief-stricken sound as they realized what was going on, seeing that their youngest brother was absent from their ranks. It might have been Haruta or Thatch, but Jack did not have time to be sure. He kicked fiercely at Marco's knees, his staff lying uselessly on the ground, and threw his head back in an attempt to bash the Phoenix's nose in. The Commander did not even flinch, but his hands were shaking.

Marco understood. He knew what was going to happen. So why was he stopping Jack? Why was Ace's family stopping the brothers? Ace had the dagger. He was going to use it. They were going to lose him. He was going to sacrifice himself for them. Why didn't they see—?

Light burst into the sky, ripping through the fog and clouds. Even out at sea, they felt the shockwave. The blast of air whipped Jack's hair away from his face and beside him, Luffy faltered, falling back a step. Everything shook, a low rumble like thunder ripping through the air and making everything shake. Screams tore through the air, but they were not ones of physical agony, the voices of three brothers rising in tandem as they realized what had occurred.

_It can't be,_  Jack thought.  _It can't be._

The light vanished as quickly as it came, snuffing out almost anticlimactically. The Moby Dick rocked back and forth on the turbulent waves, but settled, left unaffected by the explosion. The people on board wished they could be the same. There were no shouts. There were no screams. Instead silence fell over the ship as its occupants went numb. Not all understood what had just happened, but a certain few were all too aware of their loss.

Jack fell to his knees, cold tears trickling down his cheeks. "Ace…"

ROTGOPROTGOP

_Earlier:_

Ace was ready. He was willing. He had accepted what he had to do, and what he would give up in exchange. There was no hesitation as he lunged for the Nightmare King, no second thoughts, no regrets. All that mattered was reaching his goal, and finally stopping the one who had hurt his family so.

Naturally, the first strike failed to connect. At the last second, Pitch's hand snapped up, grabbing his arm before the dagger could reach his chest. Ace struggled, feeling more like a person trying to escape capture than a soul trying to plunge a dagger into his enemy's chest. He couldn't mess this up. He'd already failed so many times. If he did not seal Pitch, the Nightmare King would win.

Pitch's eyes were crazed again, but also filled with fear. His sand and minions swarmed around him but they did not attack Ace, instead hesitating like they had to go through an electric fence to reach the fire-user.

The Nightmare King held Ace back with his own strength. The Summer Spirit covered his arms and feet with flames, kicking at Pitch. His enemy did not seem to notice, focused completely on Ace's face, features growing rigid and unbreakable.

"I won't let you do this." he hissed again. "I won't let you give up your freedom for me. You deserve to  _live_ , Ace."

The fire-user froze, staring into silver-gold eyes. The hand holding the dagger loosened and Pitch twisted his wrist, expertly taking the weapon from the Summer Spirit. Ace recoiled, cursing himself for his hesitation and stupidity, but the Nightmare King held onto him, not letting him escape. His enemy yanked him roughly towards him and Ace keeled forward helplessly, fully expecting a black sword through the chest—

Arms wrapped around him, gentle and warm, and Ace stilled once more. His heart pounded rapidly and broken, furious sobs tried to break free of his throat, but no weapon stabbed to silence him. For a moment the Summer Spirit simply listened to the slow heartbeat that ran out of sync with his.

"You are truly selfless, child..." The Nightmare King said softly. "… but you've already lost enough because of me."

Still waiting for a sword to sink into his flesh, Ace peered up warily, meeting soft silver-gold eyes once more. All traces of smugness were gone from Pitch's expression, replaced by a sad, soft emotion that looked out of place on the Spirit of Fear's features. It kind of reminded him of Oyaji when he was trying to assuage his children's worries and fears.

"If it were anyone else, I think I'd let them." He whispered, the words heavy and quiet. "Or maybe I'd kill them. I don't care about them, you see. They are strangers and enemies. But you…" His arms tightened but his grip was not yet painful. "I hurt you yet you fought to help me. You tried to save me. You believed in me. Even my daughter gave up on me but you didn't. Thank you."

Again, the Nightmare King squeezed Ace, but as the fire-user began to feel pain he relaxed, shaking slightly.

"He's trying to tempt me right now." His enemy rasped, voice gaining the guttural edge that made needles prick at Ace's skin. "He wants to  _keep_  you, to make you suffer. I just want a friend. He knows that. He knows exactly what to say. I could take you… and destroy the world… and everyone would see me.  _ **I almost agree.**_ "

A bead of sweat trickled down Ace's forehead but he calmed down when Pitch did not immediately drag him into the darkness. The Nightmare King let him go, backing up a few steps. His smile did not reach his eyes.

"That's why I can't be fixed, you see. I can't be the hero I once was. There's too much Pitch in me. But I can do  _this_."

Pitch gripped the dagger in his left hand, the diamond blade glinting brightly even in the dull light. Ace's gaze flicked to the weapon and the Spirit of Fear's face, going back again before widening.

The other Spirit laughed, the sound so much like Pitch that Ace nearly recoiled. "Don't misunderstand. This isn't for them, or this world. I  _don't care_  about any of them. Only a select few…" He trailed off, face solemn. "…I'd give you a message for my daughter, but I do not feel I have the right to tell her anything. Maybe just tell her… 'I'm sorry.'"

Ace nodded without an ounce of hesitation.

Pitch smiled, truly smiled, and in that moment the fire-user saw only Kozmotis. The dagger flipped in his grey hand, now in a downward position. The Spirit of Fear looked calm once more, not a hint of doubt or fear in his silver-gold eyes.

"Now go. I can't hold them back for long."

Most people would hesitate. They would have questions. They would be mistrustful and think it was all a trick. Pitch could easily vanish with the dagger, taking away their last hope of saving the worlds. But Ace was not most people. He knew what it was like to be a prisoner. He knew how it felt to see oneself as a monster. He knew about pretending to be selfless when one was truly selfish, caring more about specific people even as their actions saved so many more.

That was why, when he saw the determination in Pitch's eyes, Ace understood him and knew he was telling the truth.

So Ace turned, showing his back to the Nightmare King, and flew as fast as he could. Soon Pitch was lost in the fog as the Summer Spirit soared to safety, leaving the Spirit of Fear behind with the one weapon that could stop him.

Far behind him, Pitch Black smiled.

Then Kozmotis plunged the dagger into his chest.

The explosion encased the cliff in seconds, vaporizing the rock and shooting light high into the sky. Ace felt the heat of the blast hit his back but was unburned, though the shockwave was enough to throw him from the sky. The Summer Spirit plummeted to the ground, falling gracelessly through the treetops and striking the earth. He curled up, protecting his head as pieces of rock and rubble rained down on him, and closed his eyes as dust washed over the land.

Eventually the shuddering and rumbling stopped, leaving behind an eerie silence.

Ace got up, looking back towards the cliffs and saw the rock face was gone. The fog slowly moved back into place, momentarily cleared by the blast, and if he wanted to, Ace could have deluded himself into thinking nothing had changed. He shook himself to discard such stupid thoughts and limped back towards the site, not trusting himself to fly with ringing ears and blurry vision.

The cliff was indeed vaporized, along with much of the ground under it. Ace descended into the crater left behind, listening to the sounds of cracking rock and falling pebbles, and lit a hand so he could see. The hole was at least a hundred feet deep and possibly twice as wide, and the Summer Spirit despaired that he would never find what he sought.

A spot of darkness that refused to become visible in his fire's light caught his eye and he walked towards it, steps hesitant and slow.

Ace knelt next to the black dagger stuck in the earth, picking it up and looking at it. Not a single bead of light reflected off its surface, making it appear as if it were an endless abyss, but the Summer Spirit was unafraid. He held it in both hands, mindful not to nick himself on the blade and felt the tension in his body wash away.

_It's over._

Ace gently put the black dagger in his pocket and stood up, careful to cover the dagger with the cloth. He did not want to risk letting any moonlight hit the weapon. Not so soon after Kozmotis managed to seal himself and the Nightmare King away.

The fire-user blinked, startled by the wetness he could feel on his cheeks, and rubbed them away with his arm. His heart was stuck between feeling joy for the Nightmare King's loss and aching for the soul lost with him.

Ace understood Kozmotis, maybe a little too well. He knew the man's sacrifice was not done out of selflessness, but a need to protect a precious few and maybe escape his new form of Hell. He may have been freed but he was still the Spirit of Fear and the Fearlings that created Pitch were still inside him, less powerful than before but still vying for control.

Ace hoped Kozmotis would find some semblance of peace in Pitch's heart, where it may be dark but neither he nor the Nightmare King could harm anyone anymore. Maybe they would be trapped forever. Or maybe Ace and the others could find a way to truly free Kozmotis one day and allow him to heal.

But for now, it was over. Pitch was sealed. The day was saved. The Guardians and their allies had won. All because of a man who sought to escape his personal Hell, saving those he cared for in the process.

And despite how cruel the thought was towards his brothers and allies, Ace knew he was the only one who would grieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I was able to write that the way I intended. You see, Ace's flames did work. They did free Kozmotis… but the Kozmotis that was left after all those years of fear and hatred was no longer the hero he once was. Like Ace, he was changed, hurt, and tormented by his experiences, but instead of being a victim the whole time, after a while he became the monster. Kozmotis/Pitch was and was not the one who hurt all those people, unable to fully control his actions but not trying to stop himself either, and once he was 'freed' he could not handle the guilt or forgive himself.
> 
> Kozmotis also did not magically grow to care for the people that rejected and fought against him, so he lashed out at them, desperately wanting someone to suffer so he wouldn't. The only one he cared about was Ace, the one who believed in him and tried to help him, and so when Ace intended to lose his freedom to stop Pitch, Kozmotis could not let that happen. Kozmotis sacrificed himself for Ace. Only him— and maybe Emily Jane— but no one else. He was not that selfless type of person anymore. And yet, in the end, he was still a hero.


	48. Aftermath

The only sounds were the crunching of loose stones beneath Ace's feet and the creaking of branches in the breeze. Other than that, it was nearly silent, as if the fog were acting as a muffler and blocking out the noises of the world. The Summer Spirit had assumed the weather would magically clear, believing it to be so gloomy because of Pitch's influence, but apparently darkness and black trees were the island's natural décor.

Ace had intended to rush to his family to tell them he was all right, but had given up on flying after faltering in the air and nearly hitting one too many trees. Instead he had to take the scenic— and creepy— route off the island. His injuries had taken it upon themselves to remind him of their existence, particularly the gashes in his arms and feet. They did not seem to be bleeding much but he wasn't the best judge for that since he was used to seeing a lot of his own blood.

Ace limped more than walked through the woods, probably looking like he had stumbled out of his grave. His limbs felt heavy, his exhaustion finally catching up with him as his adrenaline faded. He was careful to stay alert, however. There could still be Nightmares and Fearlings about. They'd be weaker without Pitch but were still a credible threat.

The Summer Spirit trekked onwards, listening to the wind, the crunching of stone, and his own breathing. The walk was almost peaceful but the location was too unnatural to truly calm him. He focused on one step at a time, strides measured and slow, and inhaled warm, muggy air. Maybe Pitch actually did affect the weather here. The island may still be strange but it felt warmer now. Or maybe it was Ace's own presence that was making the change.

Ace leaned against a tree, taking a short breather. He glanced up at the sky, judging the lingering darkness, and guessed that it still was not night. That was good. He needed time to hide the dagger more securely to ensure no moonlight would reach it. The fire-user touched the pocket opposite the one which held the dangerous weapon, feeling the outline of the star-filled Snow Globe and let his hand drift away. He wondered if the Man in the Moon had seen what had happened. His stomach twisted but he could not think of why.

Dismissing the thought, he pushed away from the tree, continuing his trek on aching feet. He could already hear Bay ranting at him for getting injured again, not to mention the dirt and stones he got in the cuts, and had to smile. He knew the doctor's anger would cover her genuine relief that he was okay, and looked forward to it. He couldn't wait to get back to all of his family and show them everything was okay. He just hoped he was headed in the right direction.

Ace spotted the vague outline of a ship up ahead and his heart lightened. If he were capable of doing so, he would have called out in joy. Figures moved through the fog, humanoid shapes emerging and disappearing like ghosts. The fire-user stepped closer, squinting at them and trying to recognize someone.

Instead he recognized their hats.

Ace's first thought was that he was in a nightmare. It was impossible for his luck to be this bad. He did not give himself time to panic, instead slowly backing into the trees. He was too slow to avoid being spotted.

"Halt!"

Ace ran.

As he raced through the foggy woods on aching feet, he heard the Marines give chase. Their footsteps pounded behind him, shattering the peaceful silence, and he pushed himself faster, fleeing through the trees. He should turn and fight but could only think about getting away before they could  _catch him_  because he couldn't be their prisoner, not again.

Figures appeared all around him and Ace pushed past a startled Marine, ignoring his threats that he'd shoot. The Summer Spirit stumbled over a tree root but kept going, kept running. A dark presence prodded at the edge of Ace's consciousness and his instincts screamed at him to  _run faster_. He couldn't face the Marines. He couldn't. He had just gotten his freedom back. He couldn't lose it. Not so soon after he'd just started to hea—

A hand emerged from the fog, wrapping around his throat.

Ace was lifted by his neck, his hands reaching up to instinctively pull the fingers wrapped around his jugular away. He spotted familiar, cold eyes and froze, ice washing through his veins. Sakazuki looked back at him, nearly expressionless except for the disgusted sneer on his lips. The Marine slammed him into the ground and the oxygen fled Ace's lungs, leaving him limp and winded on the forest floor.

Manacles clicked around his wrists and he stilled, horrific memories driving their way into his waking mind. Even though he knew seastone could not affect him, the strength left Ace's limbs, the grey haze creeping back into his mind as it quietly urged him to sink into safe oblivion.

Sakazuki pulled him off the ground and into the air, one hand around his arm and the other squeezing his neck. If the Fleet Admiral was pleased by the terror that must be shining in Ace's flame-colored eyes, he did not show it, keeping an apathetic visage. The fire-user could feel himself trembling. He had thought he was over his fear of his murderer but facing a nightmare version of the Marine was nothing compared to the real thing.

"If it were up to me, you'd be dead where you stand,  _pirate_." Was Sakazuki's cold greeting. "But unfortunately I've been ordered to bring you in alive."

It sounded like every word was made of poison, his utter loathing and hatred for the Summer Spirit dripping into his voice like he hoped they alone could kill Ace. The Fleet Admiral smelled like burning flesh and death. If Ace were not paralyzed he would be thrashing in the Marine's hold, but his desperation to get away from the monster was overcome by his knowledge that  _he couldn't win_. He couldn't break free. He couldn't escape. Trying would only make things worse for him.

With that in mind, Ace shut his eyes, unwilling to look into Akainu's hate-filled irises any longer. The Fleet Admiral still had his hand on his jugular, and the Summer Spirit swore it was growing hotter.

_He's not going to kill me. He's not. He has his orders and if there's one thing he'll do it's follow them._

He heard a nearby Marine cleared his throat nervously. "Sir, everyone else has pulled out. The pirates' forces are scouring the island." The man reported. "They outnumber us, sir."

Akainu's grips on Ace tightened and the Summer Spirit choked. The Marine released his hold on the fire-user's neck, allowing him to breathe.

"I'm aware." Sakazuki said. "We can leave. We got what we came for."

Ace did not struggle as he was carried through the woods back towards the beach. His stomach was doing somersaults and his mind begged him to fall into a mindless haze but he clung to reality with a stubbornness he wished he did not possess. The knowledge that the Marines were apparently here for him did nothing to help his anxiety, but he still did not fight.

_That's right. The government wants me 'Only alive.'_  he remembered.  _I guess I'm about to find out why._

Ace let out a hysterical giggle even though he could not make a sound and nothing about the situation was funny. Once he was on that ship he was doomed. The fire-user was not naïve enough to believe 'alive' equaled 'in good condition.' Akainu hated him, honestly  _despised_  him, and he had a feeling the man would be willing to torture him so the Summer Spirit could not regain his resolve and try to escape. He wanted to believe that if he did end up on that Marine ship, his friends would come for him, but they currently believed he was dead.

_I survived Pitch and the dagger, and now they're going to lose me because of some bloody Marines. What a joke._

Ace knew he could do better than this. He knew he could try to fight them off. Anything was better than his current instinct-induced 'pacifism' that warned him not to try at all. In all honesty, he could not let them take him. With his luck, it would not just be him who was affected by this. They'd probably use his capture as a means to draw Oyaji and his allies out again, bringing them to their deaths. Ace did not want that. Not at all. He refused to be used as a bargaining chip and hostage again. That meant he had to fight and escape.

Ace's stomach nearly rebelled at the thought when he recalled who held him. He remembered a burning fist through his gut, agonizing pain and the smell of burning flesh, and his brothers' desperate screams as everything faded away. He held in his nausea but was too close to numbness to feel pathetic about his reaction. When he opened his eyes, they were almost to the ship. Almost out of time.

_I can't do it. Last time he killed me.—_ _**Painbloodburningfading—** _ _He's stronger. Magma beats fire. I c-can't…_

Except things were different now than they were before. Ace was no longer a Fire Logia. He was a Fire Spirit, one of Mother Nature's Seasons. He controlled heat and fire, wind and lightning. His flames burned so hot that he could melt seastone. Jack could survive being near a volcano, so surely he certainly could. And why would Emily Jane Pitchiner let some mortal show up one of her children in terms of power?

Remnants of doubt trickled away and warmth returned to Ace's skin.

_I might as well try._

Ace looked up and grinned at Akainu, who paused mid-step. In an instant, the fire-user melted his restraints, planting his hands on his enemy's arm. Fire raced over his body and onto the Marine's, creeping up his larger frame. Sakazuki smirked, amused by the Summer Spirit's attack but Ace remained calm and increased the heat of his flames. He made it hotter and hotter and  _hotter_  until he could feel it warming his very core.

The Marine may be magma, but Ace was Nature's fire. He was stronger. He was better. And he would  _never_  let Sakazuki hurt him or his family again.

The first flash of pain and shock lanced across his enemy's cold features and Ace's smile widened, his cheeks aching from the strain of it. Faster than a blink the fire roared and turned a whitish-blue as it burst into a column that reached the sky, emitting a loud, booming sound almost like an explosion. Sakazuki was not burned so much as vaporized, incinerated into ashes in an instant.

Ace fell to the ground in a controlled crouch, standing almost elegantly. Around him, the Marines gaped in confusion at the spot where their leader once stood. The fire-user might have felt bad for them—… Actually, no. He would  _never_  feel bad for killing his murderer and quite frankly didn't give a damn about the Government's lackeys' shock.

The Summer Spirit calmly looked at the remaining Marines and raised his hand, fire racing over his fingertips. They bolted, eyes wide with terror as they fled him. Luckily for them, Ace was not the type to wish to eliminate fleeing enemies, unlike a certain now-dead bastard.

Ace lowered his hand and looked down at the pile of ashes. His smile vanished, turning into a scowl, and he spat upon them before turning away. He didn't know why stories claimed revenge would leave a void-like hollowness in the avenger's chest. Ace just felt content.

_I probably just screwed up the world's balance of power by killing the Fleet Admiral but they can replace him. Whatever. I don't care. That bastard can never threaten my family again._

Ace watched the Marine ships vanish into the fog, staying a few minutes longer to ensure they would not return. Once he was certain they were gone he turned away from the ocean, walking along the shore.

The Summer Spirit winced as the sand dug into his cuts and rubbed a hand over his face, wishing he could lay down on the beach and go to sleep. That was a stupid idea for a multitude of reasons so he pushed onward. He had to find his family.

He continued trekking along the water, shoulders hunched and arms crossed over his chest. The fog was growing thicker, hindering visibility even more, and he hoped he would not run into any more enemies any time soon. Ace was not sure he could handle fighting off hundreds of Nightmares.

A soft breeze tickled his cheeks and he closed his eyes, appreciating its cold touch. Then it became a familiar gale, smacking into Ace and rushing around him happily. The Summer Spirit stumbled, but a smile tugged at his lips as ecstatic shouts sounded in his ears. He raised a hand, letting Wind curl through his fingers in greeting. It did just that, applying gentle pressure that felt much like a squeeze from a cold palm and then released him, roaring away.

Ace made to follow it, only for it to come barreling back, depositing Jack in front of him. Due to the force, the Winter Spirit twirled once before sitting firmly sat on the sandy ground, a bewildered look on his face. The look quickly transformed into an annoyed glower.

"What in the world, Wind?" the Guardian snapped at it, voice cracking. "First you dump me on the ground then you just decide to chuck me here? Can't you tell I'm trying to find—"

The Wind grabbed Jack and turned him around to face Ace. The Winter Spirit's entire body went still and he stared at his brother with round blue eyes.

"…Ace?" Jack asked tremulously.

The Summer Spirit smiled. His brother took a step towards him, then another, each movement jerky and unsynchronized like he was having trouble walking. Tears gathered in his blue eyes but before Ace could try to comfort him, he spoke.

"I found him." The Winter Spirit whispered. "Guys,  _I FOUND HIM!_ "

Jack threw himself forward, tackling Ace in a hug. The Summer Spirit barely remained standing, only doing so by bracing himself on one stinging foot. The Guardian held him tightly, arms nicely cold around Ace's back, and the fire-user was quick to return the greeting, pretending not to notice that the Winter Spirit was shaking. Jack smelled like freshly fallen snow and crisp winter nights, calm and comforting and safe.

Ace laid his head on his brother's shoulder, happy beyond words that he could see him again. The weight of what he had nearly given up and lost struck him then and the fire-user released a small sob. The Winter Spirit's cold hands rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"It's okay." Jack said, voice stuffy like he was trying not to break down into tears himself. "You're safe. We're all okay."

"Ace!"

The Summer Spirit looked up in time to see Sabo and Luffy running towards them. The two younger brothers slammed into the elders and the four fell to the ground in a heap. Ace was the unlucky one who found himself on the bottom of the pile and was thus squished by their combined weight, not that he minded. His brothers were all there, together and safe. He studied them each carefully, searching for any sign of injury, but was relieved to only spot a couple bruises and scuff marks.

Luffy giggled, trapping all his brothers in his arms and unintentionally thwarting the Revolutionary's attempts to touch Ace's face.

"Luffy! Not so tight." Sabo squawked.

"Shishishi. Sorry Sabo." Luffy chirped.

He eased his grip and Sabo pushed himself up, rolling off of Ace. Jack and Luffy stayed in place and the Summer Spirit pulled on his blond-haired brother's sleeve, eyes wide and mock-pleading.

The Revolutionary smirked. "Nope. I'm not saving you. This is your punishment for scaring us like that."

Ace dropped his puppy-dog look and stuck his tongue out at Sabo. He grabbed the Revolutionary's wrist more firmly and yanked him back into the hug, conveniently trapping him under Luffy's arm. Jack grinned and stuffed a snowball down the back of the Logia's blue shirt. Sabo gave an unmanly shriek.

" _Dammit Jack!_ "

He sprang to his feet, pulling at his clothes and cursing as he performed an odd jig as he tried to get the slush out. The other three brothers watched him dance around the beach in amusement, Jack sniggering all the while.

"How long do you think it'll be before he remembers he can turn into fire?" the Winter Spirit asked.

Ace directed his eyes skyward and gave a shrug, lips twitching. He put his hand over Luffy's mouth before the rubber pirate could ask Sabo about it. The Straw Hat Captain pulled his palm away and launched himself back at Ace, hugging him so tightly the fire-user swore his ribs creaked. He felt wetness on his shoulder.

"You're alive." Luffy hiccupped. "We thought you were dead. Everything blew up."

Ace petted his black hair carefully, adjusting his brother's head so he could listen to the fire-user's heartbeat. Luffy immediately calmed but Jack's grin vanished at the reminder of what had happened. He pulled away from Ace, expression solemn.

"Where's Pitch? Did he get away?"

Unable to explain, Ace merely shifted the cloth over his pocket and showed him the dagger, keeping the dangerous weapon out of the light as much as he could. The Winter Spirit stared at the black knife uncomprehendingly, mouth moving without uttering a word. Then he shook himself, covering the dagger as Sabo remembered his powers and returned minus the ice down his shirt.

"You can explain once we're back on the ship." The Winter Spirit said, voice filled with an emotion Ace could not identify. "Let's just go home."

_Home…_ Ace's smile fell.

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace was in the infirmary again. The walls were as white as ever, the atmosphere sterile and a little cold, but it was like unseen shadows had been lifted from the place. The fire-user lay back on a bed, grimacing as Bay wrapped his feet. He had protested her medical attention at first but had relented when she told him everyone else's critical injuries had been dealt with.

The Summer Spirit had needed stitches on his soles, wrists, and calf, and by the end of it he hoped he would never have to see a needle again. The doctor set his right foot down gently and paused. Ace shot her a concerned look but she smiled reassuringly.

"I'm fine. I'm just happy you're safe." Bay lay her hand on his upper arm, squeezing lightly, then released him to wipe at her eyes suspiciously. The sign of vulnerability was quickly replaced by a stern glare. "So, is this incident going to teach you that maybe you should start wearing shoes again?"

Ace tipped his head, blinking innocent flame-colored eyes.

Bay growled. "I thought as much."

She fiddled with his bandages, checking each one over again. Ace saw her hands still as they passed over his uninjured side, her fingers brushing his clear tan skin.

"I can't believe it's over." She murmured, almost to herself. "You actually beat that bastard."

Ace purposely kept his hands from straying towards the dagger that still lay in his pocket. Instead he patted her arm, not flinching as the doctor grasped his hand in return.

"I'm proud of you." Bay said firmly. "I just want you to know that."

Ace widened his eyes in mock shock.  _A compliment? From Bay? Is the world still going to end?_

She noticed his expression and poked his arm lightly. "Don't be like that. I mean it. I don't think you understand how much you've recovered, Ace. And you did most of it on your own." Her eyes darkened. "I don't think I helped much at all."

Ace leaned over, grabbing his latest notebook.  _"You did help."_ He insisted. _"Without you and the others, I wouldn't have survived long enough to get to this point. Thank you."_

The doctor nodded slowly, though her expression was still conflicted. "You're welcome. I suppose I can't argue with the results but… Well, I guess I just realized how little time there is left."

Ace winced, gaze dropping to his notebook.

Bay sighed. "There's no reason to avoid bringing it up. Pitch is gone. The Guardians are going to have to leave soon. And you're… going with them." Her brow furrowed. "Do you think you're going to be okay on Earth, Ace?"

The Summer Spirit knew what she was really asking. On Earth, he would not have many of the people that helped him through the toughest times. He would have Jack and maybe the Guardians, but Luffy, Sabo, Marco, Thatch, Oyaji, and the others… they would be gone. He would be mostly alone and separated from a majority of his family.

Ace bit his lip, struggling against the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. Bay was right. They were almost out of time. The day that had seemed like it was never going to come was almost upon him, and all of the feelings and distress Ace thought he had beaten were coming back.

" _I'd like to be with my brothers please."_  It was the only response he could give at the moment.

Bay's gaze softened. "Okay."

She left but soon returned with Jack and Sabo in tow. Ace felt a bolt of worry for Luffy but calmed himself down, predicting his brothers would give him answers. The Winter Spirit waltzed into the infirmary and settled in a chair like he had been there his whole life, posture relaxed. The Revolutionary's blue eyes shone with concern but once he saw Ace, all of the strain seemed to leave his body.

"Hey." Jack greeted. "Luffy's with Sanji."

Ace bit his lip.  _"Is he okay?"_

Sabo sat primly in a chair and grimaced. "He could be better. He lost an arm in the fight and they couldn't find it to try to reattach it. It got left behind when Law teleported everyone out of there."

Ace cringed sympathetically. He felt a burst of guilt for being the one to cause the surgeon to move everyone when they weren't expecting it, but brushed it aside, knowing it was ridiculous to blame himself for such things. At least the chef and so many others were still alive.

" _How is Sanji doing?"_

Jack leaned back, stretching slightly. "Last I heard, he's conscious and knows what happened. He's a little upset but I think he'll be okay. He's strong."

"They all are." Sabo agreed.

There was a beat of silence.

Ace took the time to gather himself, writing what he knew he must.  _"I'm sorry—"_

Sabo put his hand over the Summer Spirit's, stopping him before he could finish the apology. "Don't. I already told you I forgive you. I don't know what happened or why, but it's over."

Ace knew better than to argue, and the gentle kindness in Sabo's eyes only helped strengthen that belief. He did not stop writing, however.  _"I know, but that's not—"_

This time, Jack grasped his hand. "We also forgive you for trying to sacrifice yourself. I'd be bloody mad if you managed it but you're alive and safe… somehow."

The question about how that happened was there, and Ace did not hesitate to share the story. He told them about what happened when he tried to free Kozmotis, how it actually worked but the man's past haunted him too much for him to be who he once was, and shared his final conversation with Kozmotis, trying to explain how the former hero and Nightmare King came to his decision. He was not sure if he succeeded in sharing the true reasons why, but he did his best.

When he was done, he showed them the black dagger. Jack recoiled, teeth bared and ice crackling through his hair but he did not attack or throw the dagger away like the fire-user worried he might. His brothers were quiet for a long pause, eyes wide with disbelief but unable to deny the evidence in front of them. Namely that the dagger was filled with darkness, Pitch was gone, and Ace was still free and in front of them.

Sabo exhaled slowly. "I can't believe Kozmotis was able to do that. Gain the strength to hold back Pitch and save everyone, I mean."

" _He didn't do it to save everyone."_  Ace felt the need to clarify.

Jack studied him, gaze calm but a little solemn. "No. He did it for you." His voice grew soft. "…Maybe he was a hero after all."

Ace broke eye contact and doodled a few stars in his notebook.

Sabo cleared his throat. "I'm just glad the Marines decided to turn tail and run as soon as Pitch was dead. Though I should have expected it." He gave a cold grin. "I'm glad the bloody cowards lost so badly. They deserved it."

Ace knew he was thinking of all those slain by the Marines' ally. Or maybe it was memories of Marineford that plagued his thoughts, where the Marines had technically won because of Fire Fist Ace's death, that made him so satisfied by their retreat now. The Summer Spirit could not stop his own vindictive smile.

" _They did lose. Akainu is dead. I killed him."_

Sabo's grin grew positively vicious.

Jack was similarly impressed. "Good job, kiddo."

Ace glanced askance at his brother, who was normally against killing humans.

The Winter Spirit shrugged. "I can't feel bad about it after everything he did. Remember, I almost killed him myself after Marineford. The only thing that stopped me was the 'no killing humans that aren't allied with Pitch' rule." He paused, straightening in his chair slightly. "You don't have to worry about that though. You may have killed him after Pitch was gone but he intended to take you to his leaders for malicious purposes."

Ace raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"I'll explain later." Jack muttered. Then he brightened, a beaming grin splitting his face. "But now that all that's over with, how about we get out of here. Bay's awesome company, I'm sure, but Shanks and Whitebeard are throwing a victory party."

Ace brightened, nodding enthusiastically.

"He's not drinking." Bay snapped, appearing out of nowhere and making Jack and Sabo jump.

Ace shook his head.  _"I wasn't planning to."_

The doctor did not doubt him. "I know. It's these knuckleheads and their brothers I worry about."

Sabo pretended to look offended.

Jack just grinned shamelessly. "We'll be good."

Bay rolled her eyes. "No you won't. Just keep him off his feet and  _no_  fighting. Now go. Have fun since I know you'll sneak him out anyway."

The Winter Spirit leaped to his feet, dragging Ace up with him. "Can do, doctor lady ma'am." He dodged a swipe from her sword. "Bye!"

Ace let himself be pulled out of the infirmary. He only made it two steps before Sabo grabbed him and lifted him onto his back. Taken off guard, the Summer Spirit clung to the Revolutionary and scrabbled for purchase. Once he gained a sturdy hold, he whacked his brother's shoulder in annoyance.

Sabo smiled. "You need to stay off your feet. Doctor's orders. Don't worry, I'll put you down before we go in. Ow." He winced when Ace smacked him with his notebook. "Are you using Haki on that or— Ow! Stop—  _Ow!_ "

Jack snickered as Ace happily attacked his blond-haired brother with his notebook, eager to get revenge for the humiliation of being carried. Sabo took it like a champ, enduring the torment even as some passing pirates stopped to laugh— but not without many complaints of course.

The Revolutionary was as enthusiastic to set Ace down as the Summer Spirit was to be released. Ace had a feeling that the only reason Sabo did not drop him was because the Logia wanted to stay out of the infirmary. That did not stop the fire-user from sticking his tongue out at his brother, who did the same in return.

"Now, now, children. Be good or we're going straight back to Bay." Jack emitted a strangled snorting sound. "I can't believe  _I_  have to be the mature one."

The identical droll looks Ace and Sabo sent him propelled him back into hysterics.

Diverting his attention from the giggling Winter Spirit, the fire-user looked at the simple wooden door between him and the party and felt a bundle of butterflies flutter in his stomach. On the other side of the door were so many people. Those that loved him, those that despised him, those that unfairly judged him, those that had friends who lost their lives for him. Could he face them all?

"You don't have to go in if you don't want to." Jack said, sensing his shift in mood.

Ace took a breath and shook his head, rejecting the way out. He was done running and living with regrets. He was done worrying about the thoughts of others. All that mattered was his own beliefs about himself. It was about time he stopped being bogged down by doubt and simply live.

Ace opened the door and stepped into the mess. He was immediately hit by a concussion of noise, the volume enough to make his ears ring. It took him a moment to register the sounds as cheers, and he soon realized that the occupants of the room were all speaking to  _him_.

"Ace-taicho!"

"Welcome back!"

"Good to see you up, lad."

"I told you he was fine."

"Hey, kiddo!"

"Ace, over here!"

The fire-user was immediately reminded of his first appearance after returning to the Whitebeard Pirates, but decided that this one was much better. Not only were his former crew among the crowd of people, but Shanks', Luffys', Garp, and the Guardians as well.

He spotted Luffy alongside a pale-skinned but vibrant Sanji, who was busy arguing with Zoro. He saw his grandfather chatting— or more likely, tossing insults back and forth— with Whitebeard. Even Law was sitting in the corner, talking to a happy Baby Tooth as Toothiana watched on in amusement.

It felt like everyone he cared about was in one place, and even though many of them looked at Ace with love and adoration he still did not feel he deserved, the Summer Spirit felt content.

He moved willingly into the throng, waving and nodding at those that spoke to him as he made his way towards his closest family. People Ace barely recalled patted him on the back, cheered his name, or greeted him warmly. They asked if he was alright, demanded to know the details of how he defeated Pitch, but left graciously when Jack pinned them with a warning glare.

The fire-user was almost overwhelmed by the attention, but he soon made it to a smiling Sabo, Luffy, Marco and Thatch at their table among the crowd. The chef immediately set some food and a cup in front of Ace, but he did not mind. At that moment, Shanks stood with a tankard raised in the air.

"Now that the man of the hour is here, let's celebrate!"

Cheers and applause sounded through the air, and Ace felt his body relax. He was one of many to lift their drink in return and smile.

He was safe here.

He was happy.

For now, he was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just kill Akainu super-easily? Yes. Yes I did. Not only because it was satisfying to write, but because it felt right narratively. I almost had him/the Marines and Ace/the pirates simply go their separate ways due to 'the pirates now far outnumber us' and 'No killing no-longer-allied-with-Pitch humans/not worth it' reasons for each side, but I decided Ace should be able to kill his murderer. Now he can truly move on, live his new life, and go to Earth without those regrets.


	49. Goodbye

Ace woke up and knew he was safe.

His brothers crowded around him, too big for the bed they all lay on. Luffy clung to his back like a baby monkey, arms wrapped around the Summer Spirit as he snored blissfully. Sabo was curled up behind the rubber pirate, half over the side of the bed and in serious risk of falling. Jack lay in front of Ace, pulling the fire-user's head to his chest and cradling him protectively. The fire-user smiled and let his muscles go lax, snuggling his brothers and wishing he could stay there forever. He knew it was not meant to be though, a thought that sent daggers through his heart.

_The party was long underway when the Guardians approached Ace. The fire-user and Jack were situated near the wall of the mess hall, allowing them— more specifically, Ace— to observe their surroundings. The Winter Spirit had noticed Ace growing uncomfortable whenever someone approached him from behind and had smoothly directed him over to a less crowded spot without the Summer Spirit having to write a word, something Ace was extremely grateful for. Habits did not vanish just because a threat was gone, and it would be a while yet before the fire-user was able to handle all the situations he once could._

_Ace had been drawing in his notebook when the Guardians sat around him. He immediately found potential escape routes between them but managed not to berate himself for his instincts. He did not feel the desire to run away and felt no fear of the Spirits in front of him, so he merely smiled in greeting._

_North smiled back. "Hello, Ace. Enjoying yourself?"_

_The Summer Spirit nodded firmly. He glanced past the Cossack and spotted a group of pirates having a drinking contest, with Zoro among them. It was obvious the swordsman was going to win, and Ace felt a smattering of pity for the poor souls who went up against him. North followed his gaze and chuckled, grin widening._

" _I have not been in such a lively gathering for a long time, and I live with elves!"_

_Bunny shuddered, fur fluffing. "I wouldn't call them 'lively'. They're menaces, the whole lot of them. I still don't understand how ya can let them near the eggnog."_

" _They like it. And they're hilarious when drunk." Jack piped up._

" _More like destructive." Bunny muttered._

_Tooth shifted so she was sitting beside Ace, placing the fire-user between her and Jack. He waved at her and she waved back before letting her hands fall into her lap. Ace watched her twist them for a time before returning his gaze to her solemn face._

" _We wanted to tell you that we're leaving tomorrow." The Guardian of Memories said without preamble_

_Ace stared at her, mind going blank. Thoughts and emotion did not abandon him for long, and glum acceptance trickled through his veins even as his face fell. He knew this was going to happen. He had always known. But now the date he had been dreading was upon him. His sight went to Marco, Thatch, and Whitebeard, lingering on them before finding Luffy and Sabo in the crowd._

_The Revolutionary was laughing as the Straw Hat Pirate stuffed chopsticks up his nose, placing the bottom ends in his mouth and making expressions that were both hilarious and slightly disturbing. A familiar squeezing sensation settled in Ace's chest. Jack gripped his hand and the Summer Spirit met sad blue eyes._

" _They already know. Whitebeard and the Commanders too."_

_Ace did not have the capability of writing, instead staring at his brother with a vacant, pained expression._

_North sighed and leaned forward. "Now that Pitch is gone, we cannot stay here any longer. Not only is there our everyday work to worry about, but Pitch is not the only threat out there and if a new menace arises, the Guardians have to be there to defend the children of Earth. We have to go."_

_Ace wished the Cossack did not sound so understanding. If he didn't, the fire-user might have been able to be mad at him, at all of them. But North wasn't, and Ace couldn't do it. Instead he nodded and got to his feet, walking towards his brothers._

_He wanted to spend his last day here with them._

And that's what Ace had done. He'd partied with Luffy and Sabo and the others, sat with Oyaji, and helped Thatch prank a certain flaming blue chicken. He'd smiled at everyone— even those that disliked him— checked on the injured, said goodbye to many, wrote what he needed to in advance, and just let himself enjoy the day and have fun. The fire-user had been unwilling to sleep, but he still wasn't completely recovered, so when Luffy started yawning, Ace went to bed as well. His eyes must have shown the grief he was trying to hide because Bay did not even attempt to make him sleep in the infirmary. Instead the four brothers were together for one final night before they would be forever separated into pairs.

_Today is the day_ , Ace thought.

A cold hand brushed his cheek and he looked at Jack, who stared back with his bright blue eyes. The Winter Spirit smiled and put a finger to his lips before summoning a snowball and nodding at Sabo. Ace smirked despite himself and nodded. Jack's grin grew mischievous and he leaned over cautiously before shoving the ice down the back of the Revolutionary's shirt.

Sabo gave a shriek any maiden would be envious of, leaping to his feet and dragging a now-awake Luffy with him, who in turn lifted Ace. After a moment of wide-eyed surprise, the Straw Hat Captain began laughing, continuing to cackle even as the Revolutionary released him and sent both of his dark-haired brothers to the floor. Sabo abruptly ignited, melting the ice, and glowered at Jack, eye twitching.

The Winter Spirit smiled innocently. "It's morning."

Sabo made an indecipherable growling sound. He brushed at his clothes and stalked forward, helping Ace and Luffy to their feet. The Straw Hat Pirate's smile was gone, replaced by a slight wrinkle on his forehead. His eyes grew round and he turned his head backwards to stare at Ace.

"You're going to Earth today."

Ace nodded. Luffy bounced from foot to foot, eyes dropping to the floor. Then he brightened, entire face lighting up.

"That's so cool! You're going to have a lot of adventures there." Luffy said excitedly. "I bet there will be a bunch of cool mysteries, and cool bugs, and meat!" His eyes shone. "Do you think there are crocodiles?"

"There are." Jack interjected, amused.

Luffy grinned, eyes wide with wonder. Some of Ace's stress trickled away, unable to withstand his brother's enthusiasm. He smirked and gave Luffy a half-hug around the shoulders, then flicked the back of his up, causing the front to fall over his eyes. The Straw Hat Captain gave a yelping laugh and shoved his hat into its normal position before pouncing on Ace. His fingers barely brushed the Summer Spirit before Jack and Sabo pulled him away and set him on his feet.

"No sparring. He's still hurt." Sabo lectured.

Luffy pouted. Ace grinned cheekily and ignored the slight ache in his limbs.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Thatch and Marco stood there, with the chef waving enthusiastically.

"About time you woke up. The others are waiting for you." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Bunnymund's really antsy. I think you should dither as much as you can. Delay. Detour. Procrastinate. Maybe show up and say you forgot stuff a few times—  _Ow_."

Marco rolled his eyes as the chef sulked, rubbing the arm the Phoenix had smacked. "We'd better get going. The Guardians aren't the only ones waiting for you, yoi."

Ace's stomach twisted with nerves, but a look at his brothers calmed him. They were at his side, together as they should be, and although it might not last for long, they might not be separated forever. His resolve strengthened and the Summer Spirit willingly headed to the deck with his brothers at his sides. He halted just inside the doorway, looking at the clear blue sky.

Jack placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ready?"

Ace nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped into the sunlight.

It felt like everyone was gathered on the Moby Dick's deck. They probably were with a few exceptions. The group crowded around North's sleigh, some Commanders having stepped forward to speak with the Guardians, while others appeared to be trying to push different packages at the Spirits. Ace recognized a few cooks among the gift-bearers and realized much of the objects must be food.

North accepted the items with beaming smiles and laughs. Tooth politely thanked the pirates, her lips twitching with amusement. Bunny was perched in the back of the sleigh and glowered at anyone who came near, foot tapping on the floor impatiently. The Pooka spotted Ace first and sat up.

"'Bout time ya showed up." The Guardian of Hope grumbled. "Can we go now?"

Tooth shot him a disapproving, narrow-eyed look, making his ears flattens.

"Give them time, Bunny." North said with a chuckle. "Easter is still weeks away. Besides, it is not like it is Christmas."

The jab at his holiday was all it took to distract the Pooka, who quickly fell into an argument with the grinning Cossack about which of their celebrations was better. Ace took the time given to him gratefully and looked at his family. Sabo, Luffy, Oyaji, Garp, and the Commanders stood before him, almost as if they were posing for a photo.

Many were smiling, some were sad, but all refused to let the tinge of melancholy that came with goodbyes overcome their joy and love for the Summer Spirit. Ace might have felt embarrassed by the open gazes of affection he was receiving once, but now it warmed his heart. They loved him. They truly  _loved_   _him_. The fire-user blinked, sight going misty.

"You're not about to cry, are you, Ace?" Sabo teased. "That's Luffy's job."

"'m not crying, Sabo!" the rubber pirate protested as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Liar." More than one person said.

A hand ruffled Ace's hair. He ducked his head and mock-glowered at Thatch, who smiled back unapologetically. It seemed like everyone else took that as their cue to touch the Summer Spirit, laying their hands on his shoulder, squeezing his hands, or messing up his black locks much like the chef.

"We're going to miss you, yoi." Marco said for all of them.

_I'm going to miss you, too._

Ace could not speak the words, but his expression must have said it all. He was instantly crushed in a many-armed hug. A spot of cold at his back told him Jack had been captured in the embrace as well, not that the Winter Spirit was complaining. Ace reached up and got his arms around his younger brothers, pulling them to him, and smiled slightly when he felt Luffy crying on his shoulder.

A shadow fell over the group and many squeaked and scattered. Of course, they would later deny they ever did such a thing but Ace would always remember the hurriedness of their steps. Marco and Thatch were the only ones to linger as Garp looked down at his grandsons. The Marine's expression was unreadable, and Ace felt Sabo pull both himself and Luffy behind the Summer Spirit. The black-haired fire-user rolled his eyes, though he was wary when Garp knelt in front of him.

The Marine's embrace was shockingly gentle. It was not as if he thought Ace was fragile, but that he was something precious, like Garp was holding a newborn again instead of a young man. The fire-user hesitantly returned the hug and felt a shudder go through his grandfather.

He was already moving before Garp's fist did, shoulders flaring with flames. Ace landed lightly on his feet and glared at his grandfather, unimpressed.

Garp's smile was soft. "You'll be fine. Be sure to have some adventures and raise hell on Earth, you hear me?"

"Please don't." Bunny groaned somewhere from behind them.

Ace grinned widely and nodded. Sabo and Luffy slunk back to his side from where they had been hiding behind an amused Jack. Something furry brushed his leg and he crouched down, scratching Stefan behind the ear. The dog barked happily, nuzzling him, and the Summer Spirit wondered if the canine was aware that he was leaving. The thought was soon dismissed as Luffy ran over and tugged on Marco's arm.

"Hey! Aren't you going to—?"

Nami took a diving lunge and clapped her hands over the rubber pirate's mouth. He continued to mumble— and likely pout— behind her palm, making her eye twitch in annoyance. Ace glanced at Jack, confused, but the sniggering Winter Spirit looked as befuddled as he felt.

Izo emerged from the crowd then and approached, with Haruta trailing behind him. The okama smiled at Ace, glanced behind him at the shorter Commander, then nudged him forward. The fire-user observed in bewilderment as the normally brash Haruta inched into view like a nervous schoolboy trying to avoid attention. He hesitated, then shoved the wrapped parcel in his hands at Ace.

"This is for you."

Ace accepted the package and opened it, feeling everyone's expectant eyes on him. The orange paper fell away and revealed a large, simple book with a large purple cover. The fire-user looked up, seeking out Oyaji in the crowd. Whitebeard smiled and nodded at the book. Uncertain, Ace lifted the cover, letting it fall aside. His breath caught in his throat.

The book was a photo album. Ace slowly flipped through the pages, spotting precious moments frozen in time. He saw Thatch being chased by a paint-covered Marco. Vista and Namur having an arm wrestling contest. Fossa trying and failing to get his boot back from Stefan. Haruta and himself sleeping beside Oyaji's chair. And many photos of all of the Whitebeard Pirates, and even a few of the Straw Hats, Sabo, Koala, and Law. Among the photographs were nearly everyone's bounty posters from his and Jack's to Luffy's and Marco's.

Ace turned to the last filled page, which was a group shot of everyone. The Whitebeards, his brothers, Luffy's crew, Shanks' men — even Law was there— relaxed and happy in an image that would last for all of time. He gently touched the photo and looked up to see them smiling at him. His mouth opened and his hands fluttered uselessly, but he could not think of what to say.

"We didn't just start taking these. Some are pretty old." Haruta said gruffly. "But we wanted to make sure we got everyone so we gathered a bunch and went through—"

Ace launched himself at the Twelfth Division Commander and embraced him, grinning from ear to ear.

_It's perfect_ , he wished he could say.

The softness that entered Haruta's blue gaze told him the pirate understood. The return of his embrace told him he was forgiven. Ace couldn't ask for more.

"We got something for you as well." Izo said suddenly, eyes on Jack.

The Winter Spirit blinked and pointed at himself, causing more than one person to chuckle. He colored and accepted the blue package from the okama, uncharacteristically shy. Ace watched eagerly as Jack ripped the paper away, revealing his gift and lifting it up in front of his eyes.

It was a hooded cloak. The cloth was the same shade as Jack's lost hoodie, carefully edged with silver and white. Snowflakes were embroidered along the border, sparkling like snow in the sunlight, and small blue beads accentuated each stitched crystalline shape. It was beautiful and almost magical, looking warm but like it were made of air. That was not the best part in Jack's opinion, though.

"Pockets!" the Guardian of Fun crowed, inspecting the inside and finding many small pouches. "Oh, how I missed you."

Sabo laughed. "Izo and the others and I didn't just make that for you to look at. Put it on."

Jack happily obliged, clipping the cloak around his neck with the buttons at the collar. It fit perfectly, going down his back and almost to his knees. If it was anything like the cloak Ace remembered Jack said he once wore, it shouldn't get in the way of his flying or anything like that. Though that might be the point.

The fire-user could not stop himself from grinning as Jack gave a joyous laugh, twirling in the air and showing the fluid movements of the material. He landed in front of Izo and Sabo and hugged them tightly enough to make the okama wince.

"Thank you. You didn't have to."

"We wanted to, yoi." Marco interjected. "It's the least we can do after everything you did for us."

His cerulean eyes settled on Ace and the fire-user ducked his head self-consciously. He had a feeling he knew what the most important thing— more specifically, person— was in their opinion. Jack landed beside him and strutted back and forth, grinning from ear to ear.

"What do you think, Ace? Isn't it awesome?"

The fire-user kept a straight face.  _"My present is better."_ He wrote.

Jack barked a laugh. "Yeah, it is."

The gentleness in his voice made Ace color and study his toes.

"Now that you both have pockets, I think it's time we give you these." Sabo interrupted.

The Summer Spirit stared at the offered pieces of paper in his blond-haired brother's hand, feeling conflicted. Luffy did not appear to notice his hesitance. He plucked the Vivre Cards from Sabo's hand and placed them in Ace and Jack's.

"Those're mine, Sabo's, Marco's, Thatch's, Traffy's, and the Old Man's." he gestured at Whitebeard with his thumb. "I know you'll be far away, but this way you can still find us if you want to."

_You can still know that we're okay._

Some of the tension in Ace's limbs faded, but the slightly suffocating sensation in his chest remained. These cards were tied to his loved ones' life forces. What would he do if one day he looked at them to see them burning away?

Jack exhaled and put the papers in one of his many new pockets. "That's right. This world isn't cut off anymore. We can come back if we need to."

The rest of the unease fled. Ace gently put the papers in the shorts pocket that held the star-filled globe. He balked, having forgotten that he had the way to Raftel, but no one spotted his flash of guilt.

Whitebeard came to him next, movements measured and an unbreakable love in his eyes. Shanks not-quite hovered beside him, grinning casually. The elder Yonko spoke first, kneeling down so he was closer to Ace's eyelevel.

"I knew this day was coming, and I admit that I do not wish to see you go, but I am not one to keep my children from following their own path." Whitebeard said. "Just know that I will always cherish the time you were part of my family and will always love you, my child. I am so proud to call you my son."

Ace's throat clogged with emotion, and if he were not mute he would still be unable to speak. He walked into his father's welcoming arms and leaned against him, feeling Oyaji's heart pounding steadily and strongly in his chest. Whitebeard looked past his son and at his son's brother, visage still soft and content.

"Thank you for being there for Ace."

The fire-user could sense the words he did not say.  _"Thank you for bringing him to us."_

Jack put his staff over his shoulder, stance casual. "No problem."

Whitebeard stepped back and Shanks sauntered forward, glancing sidelong like he was expecting one of the Whitebeards to stop him. None did, though Marco looked as if he were hoping for an excuse to kick the 'party-prone drunkard' in the face. The scarred pirate leaned in sneakily.

"Bye, kid. Maybe I'll come visit someday." The red-haired Yonko murmured with a wink.

Ace nodded and clasped Shanks' shoulder briefly before releasing him. The man pursed his lips, eyes flicking past the Summer Spirit. His voice lowered even further.

"Maybe I won't be the only one to visit, either. Depends on if I can convince a certain bird-brain to come with me." A mischievous look Jack would be proud of flashed through the Yonko's expression and he raised his voice. "Hey, Marco! Join my crew?"

"Never!" the Phoenix spat, figurative feathers ruffling.

The resulting conversation— more like Shanks teasing and Marco insulting him— between the two distracted the crowd, and Ace allowed himself to study them more thoroughly. He noticed Squard was not among those present and felt the slightest twinge of sorrow. He brushed it away, determined to rid himself of the regret. That opportunity had already passed and it wasn't coming back.

Odd movements at the edge of the crowd caught his eye and he watched Law adjust his arms at random, movements careful but precise. The fire-user focused on the surgeon and spotted Baby Tooth. The Mini Fairy looked as if she were trying to hide in Law's hat. The surgeon patiently blocked her and ignored her squeaking protests. He could not understand her words, but responded easily enough.

"No, Baby Tooth-ya. You can't stay with me."

Ace was less surprised than he maybe should have been that Law was capable of speaking in such a gentle tone. Baby Tooth ignored his words, succeeding in flying under his cap, but the surgeon took it off with her clinging inside. The Mini Fairy looked up at him and sniffled. Law gently detached her from his hat and put it on, fingers curling slightly as he held her in his palms.

Baby Tooth gave a hiccup and grabbed Law's thumb, gripping it with all her strength and shaking her head. She saw Ace watching and gave a pleading chirp, asking him to come translate for her and convince the Heart Pirate to let her stay. The Summer Spirit approached willingly enough, but Law put up his free hand before he could write a word. The surgeon kept his grey eyes on the Mini Fairy, expression firm but strangely kind.

"You need to go with Ace-ya, Jack-ya, and Toothiana-ya." He said quietly. "They're going home, to your world. Your sisters are there, aren't they? Don't you miss them?"

Baby Tooth's feathers wilted and she nodded, but said she'd miss big brother too. Ace went to write but stopped when Law's forehead crinkled slightly. The surgeon hesitated, then slowly spoke.

"I… know you'll miss me." Both Ace and Baby Tooth stared at Law in shock but he continued on. "I'll miss you. But you should be with your family. Here, you'll be lonely and homesick. It also is very dangerous. We're going to be in the middle of a big fight soon. I want you to be safe and happy and  _home_." He delicately petted her plumage, hesitated, and kissed her softly on the forehead. "I'll never forget you, little sister."

Baby Tooth beamed through her tears and hugged his cheek, snuggling him briefly. Then she slowly fluttered over to Ace and landed on his hat, clinging to the rim. The fire-user felt her straighten, and she gave a determined chirp. Ace nodded to Law— who nodded back— and the Summer Spirit and Mini Fairy returned to the center of the group. They converged closer around Ace— and the sleigh. Bunny gave a low huff and Tooth gave him another prod.

North caught Ace's eyes. "Is there anything else you need to do?" He asked lowly.

Ace nodded affirmatively and set the photo album down in the sleigh. Then he flipped the pages of his notebook and handed it to Jack. The Winter Spirit cleared his throat, causing the crowd around them to go silent.

" _I know I won't have time to do this later, so I wrote this in advance. I have a lot to say, but I hope this will suffice. I just have one request, if you would indulge me. Take care of my brothers. They can be reckless idiots."_

Scatters of laughter sounded through the air, and both Luffy and Sabo turned crimson. Jack continued to read.

" _Other than that, I just wanted to thank all of you. Bay, thank you for healing me."_ The doctor rubbed at her eyes. _"Oyaji, thank you for calling me your son."_ Whitebeard smiled radiantly.  _"Marco, thank you for not giving up on me."_ The Phoenix's countenance softened. "Thatch, thank you for making me laugh." The chef sniffled tearfully.  _"And Luffy and Sabo…"_  Jack's voice grew softer.  _"I'm grateful to you more than words can describe. Thank you for everything you have done for me. Thank you for supporting me, admiring me, and being my brothers. Thank you all for loving me."_

Luffy and Sabo were the first to hug Ace and Jack, with many others following suite. They were also the last to release them, stepping back with glassy eyes and watery smiles.

"Bye, big bros." Sabo said.

"Love you, Ace. Love you, Jack." Luffy blubbered.

The two Spirits broke away, keeping their sights on their friends as long as possible, and got into the sleigh. The rest of the Guardians were already waiting, with Bunny tapping his foot irritably.

"Can we leave  _now_?" he asked.

"Relax, Bunny." North chided. He gripped the reigns. "Ready to go?"

Jack looked at Ace. The fire-user stared at his brothers, who were among the many people waving. The Summer Spirit took them all in. Whitebeard and Marco. Garp and Law. Haruta and Thatch. Sabo and Luffy. So many more people that had changed him. So many that he cherished. He would never forget them.

Ace met the Jack and North's blue eyes and nodded once. The Cossack cracked the reigns and the sleigh rose from the deck to cheers and took off as final goodbyes rang behind them.

"Good luck, yoi." Marco said.

"Live without regrets!" Sabo called.

"Cause some chaos for me!" Thatch shouted.

"Fly free, my sons." Whitebeard rumbled.

"You still should have become a Marine!" Garp bellowed.

Luffy was silent, his head down, and for a moment Ace thought he wasn't going to say anything. Then he looked up, eyes shining.

"Hey Ace! Jack!" A wide grin split his face. "I'M GONNA BECOME PIRATE KING!"

Ace smiled softly as Jack laughed aloud. Nothing needed to be said.

_We know you will._

Both brothers waved until the ship was out of sight, vanishing in the distance. Ace let his hand fall to his side and his grin drifted away. He remained riveted on the place his family still was, even as their location got farther and farther away. Jack nudged him in the side.

"You okay?"

Ace nodded, taking time to write.  _"I will be."_

Jack took a moment to study him, then brightened. "Okay. I'm so happy you finally get to see Earth! It's really different from this world, but there's a lot of similarities too. Though I'm guessing a lot has changed in twenty-odd years…"

"In a way." North said with a chortle. "Though I guess now is time to find out, da?" He grinned eagerly at Ace. "I know I didn't show you it but I have a special Globe here—"

Ace reached out to the Cossack, stopping him before he could try to retrieve it from his bag. The Summer Spirit nervously took the star-filled sphere from his pocket and set it in North's hand. The Guardian of Wonder blinked, eyebrows inching up his forehead.

Bunny scoffed, slapping his forehead. "Well would you look at that? You almost lost our ticket home, ya dipstick."

North's startled look transformed into a vibrant grin. "I disagree. It was in safe hands."

Ace fiddled with his hat and avoided his warm blue eyes, embarrassed.

"You didn't even know it was gone." Bunny accused.

The Cossack held up the globe and inspected it, unbothered by the Pooka's glower. "Let's not dwell on it,  _da_? Things worked out in the end. No harm done." His grin grew wild. "Are you ready?"

Ace nodded. Apparently his permission was enough because North grinned.

"Raftel." He whispered into the globe, and then threw it ahead of them.

A portal appeared in front of the sleigh and they flew into it.

The world shifted in an instant, and Ace stared at the landmass just ahead with wide eyes. It was mostly obscured by fog, but the fire-user could clearly see the steep, rocky cliffs of the mysterious last island. North easily guided the sleigh over Raftel and both Ace and Jack leaned over the side of the sleigh, trying to see the geography through the fog. Bunny pulled them back.

"No looking. If you see something shiny you'll go flying off!" he growled.

Jack put on a mock-sad expression. "But Kangaroo, we're on the awesome and mysterious  _Raftel_. Can't we explore?"

"Not on your Nelly." Bunny snapped. "You two are staying  _in this sleigh_  until we get to the other side of the portal. We're already late."

"We are not late for anything, Bunny." North said in a mellow voice. "Or have you forgotten when your holiday is?"

The Pooka's green eyes narrowed dangerously. "We. Are going. Home. Big mobs of dangerous beasts could be wandering around this place and I don't want to give them time to find us."

Jack huffed. "You're no fun, Bunny."

Baby Tooth gave a loud exclamation atop Ace's hat, making all of them jump. The Mini Fairy pointed at the ground ahead excitedly, and when the fire-user followed her finger he could just see a shimmering substance among the wildlife below.

"There it is!" Tooth gasped.

"I can see that." North said, already directing the sleigh towards the starry pool below.

The Guardian of Memories turned pink and Jack chuckled. Ace peered over the edge of the sleigh, gaze caught by the portal to Manny's home. It was just like Shanks had described, filled with stars and galaxies that danced and swam even though the water never moved. They descended slowly, mindful of any nearby trees or— were those  _buildings_? Ace's head swam with questions but they were soon forgotten when Jack's amused look vanished.

"Actually, North." The Winter Spirit said solemnly. "Can you land the sleigh for a sec?"

Even Bunny did not argue, made compliant by the Winter Spirit's serious tone. Jack waited until they were on the ground near the pool before turning to Ace, blue eyes calm but grave.

"Before we go through, there's something you should know…"

ROTGOPROTGOP

Ace's thoughts were going in circles even as the sleigh emerged out of the portal. So caught up in what he had been told was he, that he did not even notice when they landed on a clean white floor. He slouched in his seat, gaze straight ahead, and his unused pen and notebook held limply in his hands. Jack grasped his wrist delicately, exerting a slight pressure on his skin.

"Are you okay?"

Ace hesitated, still reeling. He did not know what he felt or what to think. Spirits had come to his world during the Void Century? They worked with the Ancient Kingdom? Devil Fruits were made from many of said Spirits?  _That_ was why he tried to steal Sabo's fire?

It relieved him that it was not conscious malice that caused him to hurt his brother, but Ace felt disgusted with himself all the same. He had been the previous owner of the Mera Mera no Mi, which contained the remnants of a tortured and captured Fire Spirit. It was sick, it was disgusting, and Ace could not help but feel like he should have noticed the Spirit screaming for freedom and done something more to help them. Jack reached up and cupped Ace's cheek, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"Don't blame yourself." He said softly. "You didn't know, and you had nothing to do with any of that. You don't need to burden yourself with the sins of your people. It's in the past."

"I agree."

Ace went still. Slowly, he turned, and spotted the three newcomers that shone even among the vibrant whiteness of the Moon. He knew each of them upon seeing them, not needing any introductions thanks to the stories and descriptions that were clear in his mind. Short and golden Sandy grinned widely as he floated over to his fellow Spirit, the golden sand above his head forming smiles and fireworks as a warm greeting. Thin and glowing Nightlight also approached in silence, though he did nod patiently to Ace. And then there was the third, the one who had spoken.

_The Man in the Moon._

Ace looked upon the Guardian of Childhood, on one of the two Spirits who had brought him back to life… and was at a loss. He froze under those gentle, knowing eyes, eyes that had seen much more of the fire-user than he was comfortable with. His breathing stuttered for a moment, old doubts and fears rushing back, but he dismissed them with a harsh exhale.

Manny had seen him at the worst moments of his life. He had been a blade above Ace's heart that he had known would one day come down on him, a source of both gratitude and dread. He was powerful and omnipotent and could probably spot everything terrible and wrong with the Summer Spirit… yet he would not find him lacking.

Just from looking in those eyes, Ace knew Manny cared for him. He was happy, so genuinely happy to see him that even the great Tsar Lunar could not bring his thoughts to words, merely shaking the fire-user's hand in joyous greeting.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you, Ace." Manny said in a voice that was soothing moonlight. "Thank you for everything that you have done for us."

Ace glanced around uncertainly and saw the Guardians— including Jack— were smiling at him. Unsure of what else to do, Ace approached the Man in the Moon and took the blackened dagger from his pocket, offering it to him. Manny studied the blade that held Pitch sadly, but did not reach out to take it.

"Thank you." Tsar Lunar said. "But I am not the one who has the right to decide where to keep this."

"It is mine."

The final Spirit on the Moon entered the room and the atmosphere changed. Tooth, Bunny, and North tensed. Jack breathed in sharply. Even Nightlight was put on edge, shifting from tranquil calm to ready tension. Ace had no more time to take in their reactions for his entire attention was riveted on the woman that entered the room.

_Regal_ , was his first thought.

The Spirit did indeed carry herself like a leader. Her posture was firm and unyielding, her steps graceful and poised, and if Ace did not know better he would swear she was a queen. Her flowing green dress— surrounded by clouds as it was— pale, proud face, and long ebony hair only added to that assumption, and although the fire-user was never the type to bow, he knew she deserved his respect.

And not just because of the dangerous edge to her power. An untamed energy surrounded her like a thunderstorm, angry and wild and ready to strike down anyone who opposed her. Her leaf green eyes were sharp with both intelligence and threat, though at the moment it was not directed at Ace. Instead, it was meant for the Guardians that moved between her and the Summer Spirit.

"Ace—" North began, but Jack put a hand on the Cossack's arm.

"Move aside, guys." The Winter Spirit said, voice cheerful but firm. "She's okay."

The Guardians hesitated, not yet reaching for their weapons, and Ace felt a burst of warmth at their defense of him. Eventually they stepped aside, clearing Mother Nature's path to the Summer Spirit. She never broke stride, ignoring all around her like they had sunk into the walls, eyes only on her Seasons. Even a calm Manny and observant Nightlight did not gain her attention, and slowly, Jack lost it as well. Leaving only Ace.

The Summer Spirit looked into bright green eyes, unable to read the emotions he could see swimming within them. He wanted to fidget and break his gaze away, but resisted the instincts, determined not to show weakness to Nature's Matriarch.

_Emily Jane. Pitch's daughter._

Ace's grip on the black dagger tightened. He forced his arms to move, lifting the weapon and offering it to Mother Nature. The powerful Spirit did not take the dagger or speak, her eyes never straying from Ace's face. He wondered what she saw there, and what she was thinking. Did she find him lacking? Did she hate him for being responsible for her father's fate? Did she despise him for formerly being a Devil Fruit user? Did she see how broken he was now and regret bringing him back?

"Thank you."

Her voice was as regal and strong as her appearance suggested but was also surprisingly warm. Mother Nature gently took the dagger from Ace's limp fingers, cradling it in her hands. For a moment, a flash of vulnerability crossed her expression, but it was covered by a stoic look. Her eyes showed her true emotions, however, and the Summer Spirit was stunned by the grief, sadness, and  _kindness_  in her expression.

She did not hug him, or touch him, or share her fears with him. She did not show the anger and loss she felt inside because although she was wild and unruly, she was also poised and in control. He knew it would be odd if she did, because that kind of care was not her preference. Instead Mother Nature remained distant and firm, wild and untamable, cold and warm. As expected from the Matriarch of the Seasons.

Ace knew this, so he was not surprised when she vanished in a gust of wind and leaves. Jack's low chuckle suggested he had predicted the same outcome, while Bunny's shocked cry showed he did not.

"Wha—? You just let her take it?" the Pooka demanded.

"There was no need to stop her." Manny said calmly. "She has the most right to decide where to keep the dagger, after all."

Bunny crossed his arms, ears twitching in disapproval. "Well she could have at least said a bloody 'hello'. After that tantrum she threw when Jack vanished, you'd think she'd ask if he was alright!"

"Aww! Do you care about my feelings, Kangaroo?" Jack cooed. He dodged the Pooka's annoyed swipe. "I don't get why you're so shocked. Mother Nature isn't the type to stick around for chit chat."

"She's still your matriarch." Tooth mentioned, pink eyes resting on Ace. "Shouldn't she have at least explained things to you?"

"Nah. She'll do that later." Jack said dismissively. "Preferably without you guys around." His voice lowered like he was speaking to himself. "Just be happy she didn't kidnap anyone this time."

Ace's eyebrows crept up his forehead at the muttered words but North's hand landed on his shoulder, distracting him. The fire-user looked at him, catching sight of the Cossack's large grin.

"So, Ace. Do you want to stay here for a bit or go straight to Earth?"

Manny gave a laugh like moonlight and stars. "Am I such boring company, Nicholas?"

The Guardian of Wonder shrugged, unabashed. "Nyet. But there is much for young Ace to see and explore."

"He has time." Bunny pointed out. "We all do."

"What do you want to do, Ace?" Tooth asked.

The Summer Spirit hesitated, gaze drifting from Manny to the large window on the other side of the room. Sure, Tsar Lunar made him a bit nervous, but it would be rude to just run out on him, right?

" _I'd like to talk for a bit if you don't mind."_

Manny brightened, shining like a star. "Of course not. Come along."

Ace smiled in return and made to follow after the Man in the Moon, only for Jack to grab his arm.

"Hold on. I want to show you something." The Winter Spirit said.

He covered Ace's eyes. The fire-user sensed his brother's location and poked him in the stomach, making him yelp and jump away. Jack pouted and placed his palms over Ace's eyes again.

"It's just for a second! No peeking."

The Summer Spirit let his brother guide him across the room, listening as the other Guardians followed behind. They halted quickly and Jack dropped his hands, letting Ace see.

They were in front of the window that overlooked the vastness of space. To Ace, it looked like they were in a sea of stars, small lights holding back the darkness of the abyss and somehow making it beautiful. But it was not the stars that held Ace's gaze. Instead it was the blue and green planet before them, vibrant and full of life even from a distance.

Ace let his sight wander over the alien landmasses and oceans, feeling both uncertain and awed. Before him was the Earth, which he had only heard about through stories. This was his new world. This was his new home, from now until the end of time.

Here, Ace would herd Summer, fly with Jack in endless blue skies, and do whatever he wished. Here, there was no past to haunt him, no parentage to curse him, no Marines seeking his death. Here, there was only Jack and the future, and all the new bonds and adventures he would create. Here, he could finally be free.

The thrill of excitement for new possibilities hummed through Ace's veins and he grinned.

_I can't wait._

Jack's joyous smile grew with Ace's own. "Welcome to Earth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's a wrap! A sincere thank you to everyone who read, commented, and bookmarked this story!
> 
> A Frequently Asked Questions section will be down in the comments.


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